Prerequisites for Greatness
by bor902
Summary: Jaune always knew that being a hero meant going on adventures, sometimes very far from home. He just hadn't thought he would start so early, or so far. Sadly he wasn't high level enough to learn teleportation, nor did life have an easily accessible mount option. His own two legs and an occasional donkey would have to do. Medieval setting; gamer Jaune.
1. Chapter 1

**I also write original fiction under the same username on RoyalRoadl, going to be crossposting this there for people who prefer using their superior review system.**

 **Prerequisites for greatness**

 **Chapter 1**

* * *

Dodging to the side and sliding across the scuffed ground, Jaune thrust his sword towards the midriff of his sparring partner. In response to his move, his mother's gauntlet smacked his paltry stab away, her fist continuing onwards to acquaint itself with his face in a way he really could have done without.

He fell to the hard ground and groaned, slowly recovering from the blow that probably gave him a black eye, again.

Joan Arc stood over him with her usual disinterested gaze. The shadow of her small stature was a great contrast to her actual strength and power over his life. "That's enough for today. Go get some rest."

With those words, she turned away. She walked back to the house, her blonde hair shining in the sunlight. She was probably off to train one of his seven sisters, not that he begrudged them that. As a mage, he would rarely need to rely on melee combat in the future. They, however, might be able to get some use from the harsh training, considering they shared their parents' Knight class.

Being a mage, the swordsmanship skills he had painstakingly acquired progressed at half the speed compared to every other non-melee profession, meaning almost not at all. A researcher had once written a thesis that suggested it leveled roughly four times slower. Jaune couldn't deny it was a useful skill, but he treated it as a last resort since, he, as a mage, would have most of his stat points automatically put into wisdom and intelligence every two levels.

Anyone who actually sought close combat with him would probably just overpower him.

He decided to go back to the house, hole up in his room, and train the one offensive spell he had gained due to his semblance. He paused before his oldest sister's bedroom, distinctly hearing some vague shouting coming from behind the door.

Violet and his mother were arguing. They argued a lot, but he had never found out why, and he had no inclination to.

Jaune knew from experience that he wouldn't be able to make out any words, no matter how much he tried, so he simply ignored it. The man who had once said, "Being a hero means helping people, no matter who they are," had probably never been confronted with what must have been the most vicious, passive aggressive women in existence.

On the way to his sanctuary, he heard a few different conversations between his sisters and, as always, felt like an outsider. Jaune was totally fine with that, he was a lone wolf. No, that was stupid, wolves hunted in packs.

The only lone wolves were the dead ones.

He had read that frogs and bears spent most of their adult lives in solitude, but Jaune didn't really identify well with bears. They were scary, so maybe a frog then? Nodding to himself, Jaune opened the decorated door to his room.

He was Jaune Arc, the lone frog.

He slammed the door shut behind him; on it was a picture of a smiley face stretching out its tongue with the words 'NO GIRLS ALLOWED' beneath it.

He laid on his purple bed, surrounded by the calming atmosphere of the room. He was finally able to relax and unwind from the training that his mother insisted he went through despite his class.

Not that the training was particularly harsh for him, he'd seen the woman train his sisters and he did not want to be in their shoes during that particular activity, but now that he thought about it, Jaune wouldn't want to be in their shoes, like, ever. They did all wear heels after all.

He guessed mum went easy on him due to the unlikeliness of him ever using melee combat as anything other than a last resort. But honestly if as a mage you had no more energy to cast spells and the enemy engaged you in melee combat you were screwed.

Like always when thinking about his training or his family in general, Jaune forced his thoughts to drift off towards other things. Not that he hated either, the young mage just had better things to think about.

Like the fact that tomorrow was his twelfth birthday.

No one knew why, as with most things concerning the Natural Order, but you could only start gaining experience once you were of age, that being twelve.

Weird restriction when you actually thought about it. Maybe it was there to prevent stupid kids from going to hunt earlier than they were actually ready to, since they wouldn't actually gain any experience.

The loot could maybe be worth it though, hmmm.

The budding mage was fairly confident about being able to kill at least one Beowolf alone, so given enough time he would grow powerful enough to generate his own income from the loot Grimm dropped and maybe, a big maybe he admitted, he would be able to move out from this house and finally start something that he had yearned for ever since he had first picked up a book.

An adventure.

-/-

What woke him up the next day, as usual, was the angelic chime of Violet clanging pots together. She had always been the best cook in the household, probably due to the fact she had had to do it since she was seven years old because mother was taking care of the brood literally all the time and Nicholas, their father had left. Or been thrown out. They'd never really been cleared up about that.

Jaune was not going to bother coming down anytime soon.

Today was the day of his first hunt and, as always, he was going to manage alone. Independence had always been a quirk of intelligent people, and that was the answer he was going to stick to if anyone ever asked him why he desired to be responsible for himself at such an age.

Not that hunting Grimm alone was particularly rare. The ones that could be found close to a settlement were always ridiculously weak, due to the frequent culling they went through by the resident hero population.

It wasn't as if having someone helping would actually be beneficial to Jaune's plans. After all, the experience was divvied through how much one had contributed to killing a monster.

Thus, having his mother or, god have mercy, one of his 'eager to prove themselves' sisters with him would hardly give him a chance to actually gain levels.

So he did what everyone should do before going hunting.

Jaune Arc prepared.

Staring dully at the array of adventuring clothing he had prepared beforehand, he lamented the silly restrictions of the different classes.

A mage was unable to wear any kind of armour made from metal. That basically excluded everything his family of knights hoarded.

Oh sure, they probably had some artefact grade items in storage that any class would be able to wear, but he wasn't deluded enough to think he would ever be granted access to those.

He was a son of Arc, but not one who would be trusted with items worth enough lien to buy a mansion. It was a small consolation that his sisters had not been granted entry to the treasury either, and the oldest one, Violet, was 16!

But, maybe if he had shown that he was willing to train harder, he would have gotten the privilege already.

"Enough dwelling on the things I could have done." Shaking his head and reprimanding himself for his counterproductive thoughts, he started dressing.

Brown leather breeches, comfortable adventuring boots, cotton shirt, a hard boiled leather vest, and a plain brown hoodie.

The last things he put on were the leather vambraces he had been gifted for creating the swordsmanship skill (a great achievement for a non-melee class) and his scabbards.

One for the sword he had bought himself from a traveling merchant caravan with his pocket money. He had later found out he'd been ripped off. Figures. The other scabbard was for a dagger. Both weapons were common enough, but the most important part was that they were his.

Lifting a hand, the mage summoned an arcane bolt, its dark purple energy tinged with electric streaks of green. It swirled and unfurled above his palm, signifying that yes, he was as ready as he was ever going to be.

Of course, that was the point where his stomach expressed its displeasure at the lack of sustenance, and Jaune was forced to pull out his box of nonperishable food that he kept in his room in case he didn't feel having a prolonged interaction with his family in the dining room.

Which only happened often enough to warrant refilling the box maybe once a month. He wasn't that antisocial, was he?

After wolfing down a few winter apples Jaune walked over to his circular window, moved the numerous books blocking it to the bookshelf, and opened it. After looking out to make sure there was nobody, he threw himself out and rolled to a stop on the soft grass below.

Marvelling at the peacefulness of the forest, Jaune tried to trudge up the memories from when he had been taught how to move stealthily in a forest. That was the disadvantage of having something you could do, but not actually having the skill for it. Something you had a skill for was never going to be forgotten by the body or the mind.

Looking up, he appreciated the beauty of the sunlight falling through the thick green foliage above. The thickness meant he was maybe a mile away from the village that he lived on the outskirts of.

A sense of trepidation crawled up his spine. It meant he was far away enough to actually start encountering Grimm.

Jaune steeled himself. If there was one thing he actually wanted to have in common with his parents, it was being a good hero. And heroes never felt fear.

Who knew, maybe he would be a better hero than his parents ever were in the end.

Walking some more, he finally found a good tree to climb. Many thick branches close to the ground provided a stepping stone as he simply walked onto it, the rough bark and the uneven leather on the soles of his shoes preventing any chance of slipping.

There was one thing about Vale a lot of people who weren't of the rogue classes didn't take into account. Vale was an area almost entirely covered by thick forests and plains.

And these green monstrosities weren't small like the trees on other continents. They had been growing unperturbed for the last few millennia, meaning they were big and sturdy enough that they could be used to traverse the forests without touching the ground.

They were also the reason why heroes originating from Vale were sometimes referred to as tree-huggers.

Jaune was fairly certain the reason that hunting from the trees wasn't included in A Mage's Book on Combat was because most mages didn't have the necessary attributes to actually traverse the canopy like he was doing right now.

He guessed he did have a few things to be thankful for from his family after all. Even a magic-wielding Arc had access to training beyond what others usually received.

Jaune considered his position to be quite advantageous really; the height provided by the branches he was scrabbling on gave him the distance he needed to work his magic without any threat from the land bound Grimm inhabiting the surroundings.

And if they started climbing his tree, well, Jaune wasn't dumb enough to try some stupid last stand when he could just jump onto another tree. A glimpse of black entered his peripheral vision, making his head snap to that direction.

The Grimm was hidden in the bushes, so he couldn't make out what kind it was, but by the size, he suspected either a Beowolf or a Boarbatusk.

Time to move then. Jaune slowly climbed from branch to branch until he was in a position to see the monster. It was a Beowolf, and a pretty young one at that, apparently attacking some shrubbery.

Damn, he knew young Grimm were dumb, but seeing the thing attacking a bush like it had insulted its best friend really drove the point home.

Arcane energies started swirling over his right shoulder as an arcane bolt formed. He fired it off, the force of its propulsion ruffling his fairly messy hair even further. He immediately started casting another bolt, idly noting his reserves were half empty already. It proved to be unnecessary though.

One attack from his semblance that he was fairly proficient at with half of his mana behind it had been enough to kill the Grimm and make it start disintegrating. He used the option he had recently discovered and absorbed the spell to replenish half the energy it had cost.

Arcane bolt wasn't really a loud spell, with only some sizzling and a heavy-sounding thump once it hit a target were all the noise it made. He rather liked it. He really had gotten lucky with his semblance. It had given him an offensive spell at age nine, so he didn't have to wait to start training it like most other mages who got their first spell at level five.

Still, overly cautious from this being his first outing, he swivelled his head in all directions, looking for other Grimm attracted by the noise.

Seeing none, he jumped and somersaulted off the tree, quickly approaching the place where the Beowolf had been barely minutes ago, or had it been seconds? Time measurement while under the effect of adrenaline was always a bit wonky.

Jaune picked up a few lien pieces the thing had dropped.

Three one-lien coins, enough to buy two apples or a loaf of bread from the baker. And by the position of the sun, he assumed it had only taken him two hours. Four if you considered he was going to have to go back as well. Jaune shrugged; it was a start.

-/-

Dimensional mages have always been considered a bit of an oddity amongst the other mage subclasses. The fact that they only gain their first offensive spell at lv 15, a spell only really useful in the early stages if used in conjunction with a sword, has made the class unbelievably hard to level. And since not many mages are actually able to gain the swordsmanship skill or have the necessary statistics to use it proficiently, the combat effectiveness is dubious at best.

This, of course, means that less dimensional mages pass the combat tests doled out by prestigious hero academies such as Sanctum, meaning that they are less likely to become figures of prestige in hero circles.

In fact, in known history, there have only been five dimensional mages to have ever become well-known professional heroes. Not so coincidentally three of them had a supportive family of melee classes that taught them swordsmanship.

Dimensional mages are therefore considered subpar combat classes. They are however highly valued by any army due to their skills inventory and teleportation, that make an occurrence such as what happened at the battle of Trelavin castle highly unlikely.

But since dimensional mages are as rare as, say, champions or voidcallers, information about them is fairly scarce. As such, this concludes this portion of the book about rare magical subclasses.

Now continuing to the mainstream classes such as ice mage, known for its terrain control and...

Jaune threw his head back into his pillow and groaned. Honestly, how did anyone get so unlucky? If a luck stat existed he was fairly certain his would be a big fat zero.

He had grinded the entire week, made easier by the fact he had the offensive semblance arcane bolt. He'd killed seven Beowolves and two adolescent Nevermore. The memory of that particular day brought a grin to his face. Turns out mocking someone by flying in the sky wasn't a particularly good idea if that person could throw long range magical attacks.

His grin faded once his thoughts drifted back onto the subject of his class. It wasn't a particularly bad one per se. The problem was it had a bad reputation. Oh sure, no one could actually see his subclass; that's how it worked. He was still just Jaune Arc, Mage.

But at some point it was going to come up and make getting good quests and finding capable parties much harder.

Sighing, he thanked the heavens he actually had good prerequisites to succeed with his misfortune, having both swordsmanship already and also an offensive semblance that he had been training for three years.

Jaune knew what he had to do with the revelation of his class. He was going to have to go to his mother and, shudder, ask for harder training.

He could have asked his sisters. It was kind of embarrassing to have to go crawling back to mama after he had all but begged her to lay off the training a bit so he could concentrate on his semblance. But he had hardly known back then he would get a class that basically required swordsmanship, at least according to the book.

Jaune distantly remembered himself playing with his sisters when they were children, but then they had entered their boys-are-icky stage and the rift that had built itself between them had never really healed. That, in the end, solidified his decision to ask good old mum.

At least he knew for a fact that his mother considered it her duty to make him as well-prepared for the outside world as possible before most likely throwing his ass out at age 17.

Sighing, he righted himself and started a reluctant walk towards the study his mother resided in at this hour of the day.

After knocking, he heard a 'come in,' and so opened the door to find his mum slightly surprised that he was willingly coming to her.

"So, my mage subclass was a bit unexpected..."

-/-

Jaune lay on his bed as he was wont to do in his free time, but this time he wasn't reading one of his seemingly endless tomes or practising his semblance. No, Jaune was lamenting the fact that he had asked his mother for additional training.

He hurt in places he didn't even know he had. The pain was mostly focused on his wrists which were growing slightly thicker, his shoulders and shoulders blades which were becoming more defined and muscular, and his legs which felt like they were being attacked by an ascended fire mage.

There was one thing that had been bothering him other than the hellish training though: statistics allotment. After reaching level two he had been assigned two points in wisdom and one in Intelligence, a trend that was going to continue unless he somehow managed to change his class.

He had also gained one point he could freely distribute. The problem, of course, being he didn't know what to use the damn thing for.

Intelligence helped him regenerate the energy he used to power his spells. Wisdom on the other hand simply gave him more energy to work with.

Putting a hand to his chin, the mage wondered about a fitting metaphor, and as many men before him found his answer at the bottom of a barrel. The energy he used was a barrel, the barrel could be made bigger with wisdom. Simple.

Intelligence in this would be the fluid he guessed. So the higher the intelligence the faster the barrel would be filled.

Sounded about right.

Now a common misconception was that wisdom and intelligence affected your actual wisdom and intelligence. Which wasn't true. There were, after all, mages running around with about 120 intelligence who were still being diagnosed as mentally deficient to this day.

The only correlation classes and therefore Stats had with the general intelligence of a person was simply the fact that mages tended to read a lot. This activity naturally made them more educated and maybe one could argue smarter than melee classes.

Nodding to himself. Jaune patted himself on the back for these intricate thoughts he was having, then facepalmed since he still had to decide which stat to put his point into.

Sighing, he opened his status page and, like his mother had argued, put it into Constitution before he could change his mind.

He could still hear her words, which she said came from the 'Arc's Guideline to Being a Badass', "Constitution is the best stat simply because it lets you train more, train harder, and train better. It also is the stat most suited for survivability and you know what they say, living to see another day where you can grow stronger is a victory in itself."

Jaune agreed, but... didn't mages put their points into Intelligence and wisdom to be better spell casters? But he would have to fight with a sword in the early levels, that's what dimensional mages did! But he had an offensive semblance powered by the energy that wisdom heightened!

Noting a chance of his head exploding if he continued to think about this dilemma he ceased all thinking by smacking his head against the wall and started rifling through the leather satchel he had started taking on his hunts after the first day.

After all, it was always a good idea to have some food, water, and bandages with you if you were going out to kill eldritch abominations whose only purpose in life was to kill the human species. Which he coincidentally belonged to.

He had also used it to gather the loot.

It wasn't much, Jaune noted as he spread it on the rough wooden floor of his room. A few lien. He couldn't bring himself to put them into his coin pouch. After all, they had been looted from the corpses of his defeated enemies. Didn't that make them special somehow?

A Beowolf mask, now this was actually a fairly rare drop. The item, of course, was of inferior quality since it came from a young Beowolf, but it should still raise someone physical stats by a small amount if one wore it. The problem being that you would slowly go insane and start lusting after human flesh, in a bad way, if you wore it too long.

The only ones who could wear it without any risk were mind mages, a class distrusted about as much as rogues, thieves. and assassins. Running around wearing the faces of humanity's greatest enemies probably didn't particularly help them either.

Jaune decided he would keep it anyway. Better being slightly insane and alive than dead. After all, a few stats can save lives… No, he corrected himself, have saved lives.

The last items were a few generic feathers from the two Nevermores he'd 360-no-scoped. Not really useful for much else than decoration and fletching for arrows. More valuable as decoration though, rare due to the fact Grimm dissolved after death.

There was always a bit of a weird fascination circling around the Grimm: what were they, why did they hate humanity, and so on. So naturally, Grimm paraphernalia was sometimes in high demand. Only by NPCs (Non-Professional Combatants) though. Hero classes, after all, could just hunt their own trophies.

Jaune picked up the feathers, stood up, and dusted himself off. He was sure they would fetch a few lien from the village's merchants and the price wouldn't change much if he waited. Might as well go sell them now.

Walking on the dirt-trodden path from his family home towards the beaten-down village of Aschen was always an interesting experience. A family of heroes was naturally wealthy, and the village wasn't. The difference in the architecture was immense, since while anyone could build a house, an architect was definitely going to do a better job.

It was a conundrum many people faced, born into a class you did not enjoy and being basically forced into living out the job anyway simply due to the fact you were almost unable to gain the skills necessary to work in your favoured job.

These people were losers, this Jaune had decided after he had gained his swordsmanship skill.

He wasn't suited for it, or maybe he was, genetically, but he had still managed to get it through simple hard work. People who dreamed of things that weren't easy for them, yet did nothing to actually achieve what they wished for, were... he wouldn't say subpar, but Jaune just really couldn't stand their unjustified whining.

Walking past the village gates, he felt a prick of resentment when the villagers took one look at him and started whispering.

The relationship between heroes and NPCs wasn't all that great, especially on the outskirts where the heroes sometimes weren't able to save everybody.

Jaune ignored them like he always did and headed towards the blacksmith.

The shop was empty, as usual. Emmon wasn't really someone who manned the shop much; he rather preferred hammering away at his creations incessantly.

Jaune walked behind the shop and towards the sound of metal clanging on metal. The heat from the forge hit him like a brick in the face once he opened the door to the smithy.

The man didn't notice. He never did, too sunk into his work to take care of his surroundings. Which was maybe the reason he was still unmarried and childless at age 51 despite being the highest level blacksmith in a radius of miles.

"Jaune, what brings you here?" Too sunken into his thoughts to notice the stopping of the loud noise, the young mage almost flinched, but managed to control himself.

A wry grin settled on his face.

"Ah you know, finally started using the sword I bought. Even if it isn't seeing much use I still wanted to buy some things to repair it if it was ever necessary."

"Ah, you're finally twelve then?" It was a rhetorical question. Emmon scratched his scruffy brown beard speckled with grey. "Yeah, I have some whetstones lying around. Could give them to you for the usual hero discount since you're actually going out and killing some beasties now."

His eyes sharpened. Some would say the man's shrewd intelligence was due to the fact blacksmiths had high intelligence to better remember different metals and stuff. Jaune just attributed it to the fact the man had travelled much of the world searching out the greatest blacksmiths for their wisdom.

"But lad, aren't you a mage? Why are you hitting them with a sword?" Did he sound worried?

Jaune tilted his head. Revealing his subclass wasn't something he was going to do anytime soon. "You know, after all the work that went into learning swordsmanship it didn't feel right to not use it to rid the world of some monsters."

The man bellowed, "HAH, a man after my own heart! What use is working on something if the end result is useless? And there is no better feeling than smacking a good sword against the empty head of a young Beowolf."

Emmon turned around and rummaged through one of the piles of his disorganised tools. After a few seconds he emerged unscathed and triumphant, holding a whetstone.

Throwing it to the mage he said a few last words, already turning back to the forge. "You get this one for free, and remember to come to me first if you ever get some boarbatusk tusks. Now off with you. I've got work to do."

Unbothered by the short exchange, Jaune left after saying a final goodbye. He headed towards the general store where the only other male hero in the village resided.

The dreaded general store.

Most villages on the outskirts didn't have Alchemists from whom you could buy potions directly, no adventurers' guild where you could relatively cheaply buy skill books… relatively because the worst ones still cost ten thousand Lien.

Merchants who owned stores usually stockpiled these items just so they could fleece heroes who had no other choice but to buy the items at an often ridiculously inflated price. "Oh, your friend is bleeding out due to an Ursa strike he took to protect some villagers? Sorry, I really can't sell this potion for less than a thousand lien."

There was a reason merchants were the most reviled class amongst heroes. Every other class produced something. The merchants simply hoarded money.

At some point a few decades ago a band of heroes had even been declared rogue because they had refused to help a merchant who was being mauled by a Beowolf.

Jaune didn't really consider the fact he might have been indoctrinated by a family who by the virtue of being knights reviled anyone who was dishonourable.

Because of this, he entered the store of the Albrechts with trepidation.

Just to be greeted by the gap-toothed smile of a little girl who couldn't be older than seven. She recited a clearly often-repeated line. "Welcome to Albrecht's General Store, where you will find everything you need for your day-to-day life."

Jaune's eyes narrowed and his mind sharpened to a point like it always did before a fight. "Can you go get your mother or your older sister, Susie?"

Susie pouted at this and stomped up the stairs, muttering about how no one wanted to do business with her.

Not doing business with anyone of the NPC classes below age twelve was a common courtesy though. Classes like merchant, for example, could only gain experience from, well, mercantile activities.

Oh sure they could still pick up a sword and try to kill some monsters, but before that ever happened humanity would have probably conquered the seven spires, ended racism, and created a contraption that could cure death. Highly unlikely.

"Jaune, what can I do for you." The owner of the store ripped him out of his musings. Despite the name Albrecht's General Store, the proprietor was a good-looking middle aged woman. Albrecht had been her father.

The young mage noted the way she put on a heartwarming smile, bent down a little to be eye level to him, and revealed some of her cleavage at the same time.

He couldn't help but blush and stammer a bit. Noticing he was making a fool of himself, he stopped, closed his eyes, breathed in, and calmed himself.

When he opened them he met her amused ones again and tried to properly articulate what he needed. "I, uh, need a health potion and a man- I mean energy-restoring one."

Damnit.

He'd stuttered and almost used a word a merchant would have no way of knowing. Mana after all was a fairly new word an archmage from Vacuo had suggested after noticing that using the sentence, 'the energy we use to power our spells,' was a bit tedious.

Jaune had even heard they were trying to create a measurement unit for it. He didn't have many illusions about them actually managing that feat but he couldn't dispute it would be useful.

"Sadly we don't have any energy potions on stock, but I think I can part with my last health potion for maybe…" She tapped a finger to her chin as if thinking. "...three hundred Lien."

Jaune almost gaped. A health potion, a minor one in this case, could be acquired from the alchemist guild for maybe 75 Lien. The worst part was that she was going easy on him due to the fact he was young and a local.

"I've only been hunting for maybe a week. I can only give a hundred if I actually want to afford any other equipment."

Jude put on a sad face at that and shook her head. "Sorry, but I can only part with the potion for two hundred if I want to make a profit." A blatant lie.

After concluding the trade that had drained half of his funds he asked her where her son Raynold was. At that, she simply shrugged and told him he was hunting and that she would tell him he was looking for him.

-/-

"I've heard you were looking for me, Jauney." The words broke Jaune from his slumber in the meadow right next to the general store.

Opening his eyes blearily, he was greeted by the slightly-too-round face of Raynold, the fourteen-year-old warrior hovering over him like some kind of demented sun.

He cringed involuntarily at the nickname. Damn, the more he reacted to it, the longer it would persist. Jaune sighed.

"I guess you could say that." A yawn escaped his mouth, which he managed to cover with the back of his hand. "Was just wondering if you also thought we should party up now that I'm of age."

Raynold grinned, his brown eyes almost twinkling." Why, I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

 **My first story, don't really know how I feel about it. I'm glad that I managed to bring out the motivation to write it. But also afraid of not being good enough. Odd feeling. We will see.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I also write original fiction under the same username on Royalroadl.**

 **Chapter 2**

 **Edited by 5th dimension**

* * *

Reaching level five as a mage was the first great milestone. After all, if you didn't have an offensive semblance you had no spells at all, which made the climb substandard to say the least. Most mages picked up some skills with the bow just for this occasion, others got power-levelled by friends or family, and finally, the richest of the rich simply bought a skill book.

Jaune had never really considered how much he had lucked out with his arcane bolt. Well, now he had, and he was almost ashamed of how easy the dreaded level five had been for him.

Only _almost_ though. Nothing to be ashamed of if you used unfairness to be a good hero.

After partying up with Raynold, his hunting speed had quadrupled. Raynold had told him his had tripled. Quite an amazing effect that having one other person with you was.

Jaune and Raynold sometimes didn't get along because of their personalities, the warrior being stereotypically brash, easy to excite, and quick to anger, while the younger mage was more tranquil and calm.

Well, as tranquil and calm as a twelve-year-old could get. Only eight more months until he was thirteen! The birthday in itself wasn't what was important to him, but the fact that he would be one year closer to being able to go to Beacon: the premier academy for heroes on the whole continent.

Walking behind Ray, he ogled the armour the warrior had newly bought from Emmon. It wasn't anything fancy, just standard equipment a young hero could afford. Shoulder pads, greaves, arm braces, and a chestplate. Nothing special, just effective.

Since the melee fighter only used a sword, his defence against Grimm stronger than him was fairly lacking. He could hardly parry a strike from an enraged Ursa after all... Not that they had met one yet. They had hunted mostly Beowolves and some Boarbatusks.

Well, the point was that now he had a higher durability with his armour. Although Jaune wasn't sure if it was economical the way his companion used it. Trading a hit onto your chest for a stab into the face was a fairly effective tactic, but it sure dented the chestplate fast.

Ray had complained more than once about how much it was costing him. It had set him back to the amount he had earned before partying with Jaune! The boy in question had consoled the moping teen with the fact the experience they were getting was noticeably higher.

"See you later Jaune!" They had arrived at a crossing on the edge of the Grimm-infested forest. Ray lived in the village, Jaune in the outskirts of it.

"See you!" He was too far away to hear him. Damn, that probably didn't help Ray's opinion of him.

Jaune had noticed that every time points were put into wisdom, his thoughts became slightly more fleeting, tumbling like a children's toy in a hurricane. Losing yourself in your thoughts could become a terrifying reality.

Every class had their dangers, some more pronounced than others.

Arriving in his backyard, Jaune prepared himself to do what he hated doing most. Making a decision.

At level five you could finally pick a skill which was dependent on your subclass of mage. The part that for him sucked though, was the fact that since dimensional mage was such an obscure subclass, there was no documented skill tree for them.

Fire mages, being the most common type of magic wielders, had entire books dedicated to what the best skill to unlock at a certain time was, how to best use your points, and what equipment suited you best at which level.

Fucking casuls.

No time to dawdle. Might as well see what choices he had. Jaune closed his eyes and let the knowledge that had been waiting for him since the level up flow into him.

Dimensional comprehension.

Inventory.

He spent more than half an hour comprehending the information dumped into his brain and another half an hour summarizing it to a reasonable length. Jaune started rubbing his temples in preparation for the headache that usually came when you spent so long in the trance.

"I guess there is a good side to wisdom," he muttered to himself. The pain wasn't nearly as intense as he thought it would be.

So basically, inventory was a skill that would let him create a dimensional pocket where he could dump all his stuff. The size was dependent on his expertise. Dimensional comprehension, however, was a passive skill that would give him a sixth sense of sorts, the ability to understand dimensions on an instinctive level.

While he was tempted to pick inventory simply for the reason that he could keep the horde of items he had been collecting since he could remember as close as possible, intellectually he knew that dimensional comprehension was the better choice. Only an idiot would not notice the fact that having an instinctive understanding of space would be helpful for somebody who used spatial magic.

He promptly informed the natural order of his choice. Hesitation only lead to doubts after all, and what was the point of delaying the pain of getting several books of knowledge shoved directly into your brain?

A minute after the slight headache that occurred while his body adapted to the 'instinctive' knowledge, Jaune finally managed to normalize his breathing from the rapid wheezes he had been forced to take.

"Well, that wasn't that bad," he muttered.

That's when vertigo hit him and he was thrown to his knees, only barely managing to avoid giving the ground a lasting impression of his face by throwing out his arms. Stomach gurgling, Jaune had but a second before a literal waterfall of bile escaped his stomach and hit the ground between his hands.

Loud gasps for breath resounded through the clearing with momentary interludes of acidic fluid hitting the grass. After a while, Jaune had no more contents to spew out, so his increasingly weak and shaky body contented itself with simply retching on nothing.

The world was spinning, and not in a metaphorical sense. Jaune literally felt the way the planet under him spun, so fast was it he was afraid he would be thrown off any time now. Flashing lights and impending darkness at the edges of his eyes gave him enough warning that he managed, as his last conscious act, to swivel his head so that he wouldn't land nose first in the bile.

His body gave out on him, his mind flickered, and a wet splat resounded through the clearing.

-/-

The first thing that hit him when he started regaining consciousness was the smell, the pungent smell of puke mixed with earth tickling his nostrils like a particularly offensive feather.

The second thing that Jaune noticed was the fact that the world was spinning. Still, well, he didn't as much feel the world spinning like a demented ballerina as he felt his personal coordinates spin through existence in a circular motion.

The vertigo hit him again. Noticeably weaker than the first time, still strong enough that if he had tried to stand up earlier, he would have just fallen face first into his puke again.

Jaune rolled himself onto his back, coincidentally putting the back of his head onto a place one normally wouldn't want to.

The mage couldn't really make himself give a shit at the moment, too busy trying to come to terms with what the fu- ...hell was going on.

This must be due to the skill. He knew that acquiring extrasensory skills led to severe disorientation sometimes, but he'd never read about anyone getting knocked unconscious.

Jaune let the gentle wind caress his shaky body, ignoring the feeling of his clothes clinging to him because of the sweat. Listening to the soft rustling of the leaves as the wind swept through them, he finally managed to relax.

He focused on his newly acquired sense. He felt the way he, as an object made of meat, blood, and magic, spun around an invisible axis at frankly quite frightening speeds. The fear of falling off of Remnant slowly settled as it became obvious such a thing was not going to happen anytime soon. What a relief.

Once he was able to somehow ignore the most powerful new stimuli, he moved onto other things, like the fact that he felt the mana that was in his body and the effect it had on the dimensions(?) around him. His pupils dilated at the sudden understanding about what his mana was doing to his surroundings.

It was threading itself through time, slowing it. He knew that magic users had a habit of living just as long as their vitality-laden counterparts, which didn't make much sense when you put any amount of thought into it.

Well, now he had the answer. Sure, at his level, it wasn't much. Maybe in eighty years of life, he would gain one more month, but he was someone who had only started really being a mage four months ago. He couldn't help but wonder how much additional time ascended mages gained.

"Wait, if I can feel the mana inside my body, can I also feel it once it leaves the body?"

Furrowing his brows, Jaune threw a very weak arcane bolt at a nearby tree and would have shouted in wonder if he hadn't still had a very hoarse voice due to the puking. He had felt the way the arcane bolt travelled through the air! He hadn't been able to feel it before, making the act of manually controlling it quite hard, if manageable with lots of practice.

Now he felt as if he could make the thing do a small jig as it travelled to its target. He created another bolt but held onto it this time. Slowly he managed to turn the naturally round shape of his semblance into a triangle. Well, more of a misshapen ball, but still.

Concentrating fully now, he fired the attack at a fairly thin tree. Due to many hours of practice, his aim was perfect, going directly to the middle of the thing, but he swerved the bolt to the left, making it miss its target by a fraction and hit the tree behind the first one.

Jaune grinned like a madman. Before his new sense, he'd only managed to change the trajectory by maybe half as much. Greedy for even more good news, he brought the skill description forward in his mind.

 **Dimensional comprehension (passive)**

 **Understand what is there and what isn't. The hidden things are revealed while the obvious is made more obscure.**

His grin faltered a bit. It wasn't a skill that you could rank up like his two other skills.

The lowest rank was neophyte, closely followed by novice and so on until reaching the highest rank of grandmaster. Jaune was pretty proud of the fact that he was a novice in swordsmanship and that his semblance had the very high rank (relatively) of apprentice, the third lowest rank being fairly hard to reach without putting a lot of work into it.

Or just half-assedly using the skill for maybe ten years. That would make it to apprentice rank as well.

Rumours said you needed to have at least one skill at journeyman if you wanted to enter Beacon. How they determined your proficiency was, however, a mystery. Probably some kind of artefact.

Well, now that he had access to a new skill it was time to try to find out everything about it. You didn't receive all the information pertinent to it after all.

Jaune then remembered he was lying in his own bile in drenched clothes and that he hadn't eaten anything for, by the position of the sun, twelve hours.

Maybe he should take care of that first.

-/-

A loud slap resounded through the clearing as another one of Jaune's formerly filthy clothes was thrown into a bucket after being scrubbed thoroughly.

"This is taking way too long," the mage mumbled as he washed the last article, his woolen shirt which had gotten the most of the unpleasant fluids spewn onto it. His raw hands suddenly spasmed, releasing the shirt, and it rapidly started being drawn away by the current.

He threw his head back, looking at the green canopy above him. The soft blubbering of the small river he was standing in mocked him with its apparent cheerfulness.

"For fuck's sake." He really was developing into a potty-mouth. But he couldn't help it. Cursing just felt so gooood.

By the position of the sun, he still had a few hours until sunset, his curfew. But delays were always possible, especially in a place that was far enough from the village that Grimm were always a threat.

"Fuck it. My mana is full, the Grimm around here are weak. What's the worst that could happen?" Maybe getting frowned at by mum for missing curfew. He was sure he would find a way to deal with her disappointment somehow.

Clad in only his pants, the only article of clothing other than his shoes that had gotten away unscathed from the incident he was never ever going to talk about, he started a slow trek alongside the river.

There was an outcropping of rocks in the water not too far from here. His shirt had probably caught itself on them and if not, it was just a shirt.

The occasional wind made his wet upper body shiver. Him having a strong and wiry frame didn't really help against the cold. Muttering under his breath, he finally reached the place where rocks jutted out of the river like the tooth of a particularly malformed elder dragon Grimm.

And lo and behold his shirt was there. In the middle of the most rapid current, of course. Throwing his head back again, Jaune wondered who he had offended to get this kind of day. The joy of finding out how much more useful his semblance was with his new skill already faded due to having to wash disgusting clothes.

"No sense in delaying." Jaune pulled off his shoes and socks, but kept his pants on, and then started wading through the water towards his property. The sharp stones at the bottom of the river occasionally cut his feet, making him curse as random intervals. Maybe he should have kept his boots on.

Finally, having reached the shirt, he plucked it from the rock and looked at it. There was a big hole in the chest area. Nothing some sewing couldn't fix, but still annoying. Well, better a shirt with a hole than no shirt at all. He only had six, after all.

He suddenly sensed something on the edge of his range with his new skill, a disturbance in the fabric? He didn't know what to call it.

Jaune moved towards, making it fall entirely into his range, and now he could understand what it was.

It was a hole in reality.

And it was underwater. In the middle of the river, where the water was the deepest.

Sighing, he moved towards the thing and stuck his head under water to maybe catch a glimpse of whatever it was.

He opened his eyes when his head was entirely beneath the water, and saw what appeared to be a cave. The moment he saw it, he couldn't help but breathe in surprise, and had to resurface, sputtering on the water that had found its way into his nose.

"Holy fuck!"

A dungeon, here!

Dungeons were some of the most sought after things by people holding the hero classes, or anyone who wanted a lot of experience and loot. They provided double the experience you would normally get by killing the monsters within, and always had a special item at the end.

They were also something meant for full adventuring parties, no sense in getting too excited, he thought to himself.

The information would still sell for a bit and Jaune wasn't deluded enough to think he and Raynold could even remotely conquer it alone. Raynold would probably try, saying something stupid like,"What is the point of being a warrior if you're as cautious as a rogue?"

Best to keep it to himself then.

Another revelation suddenly hit him like a brick to the face.

He could feel dungeon entrances.

Had all the other dimensional mages before him been able to do so as well? If so, why hadn't they gone public with it? They would have instantly raised the class from its obscurity and low key derision into the ranks of legends.

But anyone who actually enjoyed adventuring would never do that after putting at least some thought into it… If a government or a powerful guild found out about it, you could kiss your freedom goodbye. It was always the needs of the many above the needs of the few in the world they lived in.

Best case scenario the mage would become a respected member of any guild he wanted to join and would lead it to great heights.

Worst case scenario, cast in chains and paraded through the continent, searching out dungeons to help level the heroes of the particular organization that captured you. Your freedom was gone. Probably milked like some livestock in a hope that your children would inherit your class.

Jaune pulled himself out of the river and huddled between the roots of a nearby oak, almost hyperventilating.

Jaune remembered something he had read not a long time ago about his class. Three of the four most famous heroes who had possessed it had been women.

"Fuck."

-/-

The fact that dimensional mages could find dungeons changed everything, upturned every single plan Jaune had made on his development. He let his head hit the rough bark behind him and watched the slowly setting sun.

If any organizations knew about this ability there was no way they would make it public knowledge. As much as humanity was at war with the Grimm and the other creatures inhabiting dungeons, it was also at war with itself.

So he couldn't know if there was some group of people on the lookout for any young dimensional mages who had not learned teleport yet, which was what made the holders of this class particularly hard to pin down.

Best to be cautious then.

Information and fear were swirling through his mind so fast he couldn't think. It was time to go home. As he walked away from the rocky section of the river, Jaune saw, or felt the dungeon disappear from the edge of his senses. Having a new sense was weird. Grammatically and practically.

One thing was clear. He would need to find out what kind of dungeon it was. The chance of it being the weakest variant, a permanent one, was fairly high. It was, after all, located in a remote place where people didn't really have much reason to go to.

As he picked up the bucket with the rest of his clothes and headed home, he continued to think about the issue at hand. The dungeon, IF it was a permanent one, IF he could complete it with Raynold, could throw him ahead of the curve very heavily. He could make sure that if people ever found out about his ability, or if they already knew about it, found out about him being a dimensional mage, he would at least be strong enough to defend himself.

Or in the worst case, escape.

Jaune turned his head to the night sky one last time that day.

"...Fuck."

* * *

 **I didn't add an authors note in the first chapter. Afraid I would break the already brittle flow. The updates will stay between two and three weeks in the future, maybe faster during summer vacation, who knows. Constructive critism appreciated.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I also write original fiction under the same username on Royalroadl.**

 **chapter 3**

 **Edited by 5th dimension**

* * *

Jaune had been slowly training his new ability for the last month with the help of the hole in reality that was a dungeon. By doing this, he had made a few conclusions.

First. Just because dimensional comprehension didn't have a rank didn't mean he wouldn't be able to progress with it. After soaking up every detail he could note about his first encounter with dimensional magic, Jaune had noticed that the flow of information that the skill provided had become slightly smoother. If he extended his range, the information flow went back to the original inferior quality.

He also noted that his sense of balance had improved. The sense of balance was mostly affected by dexterity, but having a skill that improved it wasn't unheard of.

Second. The underwater dungeon was not permanent. That statement probably required more background information. Dungeons were natural occurrences that happened everywhere where life existed. These entities, or doors as Jaune had discovered, syphoned off the energy from their surroundings to create the doorway. Why they did so, no one knew.

There was a direct correlation between the amount of energy necessary to power a door and the difficulty of the dungeon. Namely, the more power that was required, the more powerful the Grimm or the monsters in the dungeons were and the more valuable the loot.

For a dungeon that was permanent, it had to meet one simple condition: its energy input had to be exactly the same as the amount of energy its surroundings could provide. If it needed more energy than was available, then it would disperse after using the available energy up. If it needed less energy than the surroundings provided it, then it would also disappear since the unabsorbed energy travelling in the air disrupted the makeup of the door.

The underwater dungeon had maybe one more week. Thankfully it was a dungeon that needed less energy than was actually there. A place on the outskirts of a village with no great amount of Grimm or any symbolically powerful landmarks was very low energJaune y, so it should be even weaker than a permanent one.

This he had found out with his new skill. It was like watching threads come together and the thread that was responsible for the lifespan of the dungeon was shortening at a pace only a low-energy-eating dungeon could have.

Third conclusion. Jaune was Dumb. After thinking about what to do for a month, how to approach Raynold, convince him to explore the dungeon, wondering if he should even explore the dungeon...

After all of that, Jaune realized one thing. His mother was a full-fledged knight and was perfectly willing to help him become stronger.

No point thinking about his stupidity any further. Mum was out buying a few things for the household, and he was scheduled to meet Raynold at their usual meeting place. He still had a week. No need to rush it.

His hesitance might also be attributed to the fact that he liked the routine he had fallen into. Wake up, spar with mother, train arcane bolt, go hunting with Raynold, sell loot, and lastly try to understand the makeup of the dungeon. It was a nice routine that would make sure he would be at least a few levels ahead of the curve when he arrived at Beacon. The average level of the entrants was sixteen, while Jaune was already at level six.

"Yo Jaune, you ready for some hunting?" Raynold's voice resounded over the clearing. Jaune's feet had unconsciously led him to his destination.

He couldn't help but smile at his maybe friend. "Was there ever an instance where I was not?"

"I guess not." The other boy guffawed. "Except maybe that one time where you wanted to stay in the village to flirt with that travelling artisan."

Jaune felt his face heat up and walked ahead to hide his blush. "Come on smart guy, those Grimm aren't going to kill themselves."

The warrior shrugged and started walking towards the forest, with the mage clambering on a tree in their usual formation.

No matter what people said about warriors being muscle heads, Raynold wasn't dumb. He had known what skills he needed to be a successful hero and had done his all in acquiring them.

Like tracking, which was the reason that Jaune could just tree-hop behind him while Ray searched for Grimm tracks. Sure, he had been learning as well, but he wasn't nearly as good at it as Ray, who already had at least two years of experience.

They progressed in silence. There was a time for talking; this wasn't it.

After an hour or so, the land-bound warrior suddenly crouched down and raised his hand, holding up two crooked fingers. Beowulf. Then he held up four fingers on his other hand. Four of them. Then a forefinger swivelling.

Jaune wasn't able to see them in his position in the tree, but he trusted his partner, so he circled the other direction while Ray stayed there.

After a while, he came into sight of a clearing that had previously been hidden behind the bushes Ray was hiding behind. It wasn't particularly big, only being able to hold the four Grimm lounging inside it.

Circling had been a good decision. Three of the Grimm were almost directly in front of Jaune's tree while one was a bit further away, closer to Ray's position.

Like usual Jaune was the one to start the fight. His job was to distract the three before him so that the warrior could solo the lone Beowulf. Afterwards he would use taunt on the remaining two so as not to let the mage get slaughtered. The assumption was that Jaune could oneshot the weakest-looking one, and then take on a more supportive role.

It took Jaune mere moments to identify the weakest one. Sadly, it was the one Ray was going to kill. The second-weakest one it was then. You could easily determine the age of a Grimm by their bone plating-the less they had, the younger they were.

Jaune started charging up a bolt, sacrificing its stealthiness and maneuverability for raw power. He dumped about half of his entire reserve into it and like a loosened arrow, it streaked towards his target in a purple arch.

The head of the monstrous wolf looked like it evaporated into a black mist, the body falling to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. The remaining three Grimm in the clearing perked up, wasting precious seconds on determining where the threat was coming from before actually doing something, giving Jaune enough time to throw another bolt at the Grimm closest to him.

Not nearly as strong, just enough to finally make them run towards him instead of staring dumbly into space.

As if jolted from their stupor, they started running towards the tree he was crouching on. Only two arrived. The one furthest away was immediately jumped on by Ray and almost died in one hit as he brought his sword down on its spine. With animalistic reflexes it shimmied towards the ground and rolled to the left, not that that helped much since the warrior just brought his swordless hand down onto its head and probably broke its neck, by the way it suddenly went limp and started flopping around.

Ray froze, probably wondering why it was so easy. Jaune felt a sliver of annoyance. Apparently, the warrior hadn't used the time while Jaune had circled the clearing to identify the strength of the Grimm, how droll.

He didn't freeze for long though, maybe a second, and then he immediately roared. "ROOAAR!" A red-tinged cloud escaped his mouth towards the two Grimm stalking towards Jaune's tree, and they suddenly turned around so fast they were blurs in Jaune's eyes and started leaping towards the warrior.

One of them was parried away by Ray's sword, the other got an arcane bolt to its hind legs and didn't make it to him in the first place.

After Ray finished off the two Grimm, Jaune jumped down from his tree and they started collecting the loot which they shared equally. Not much, a few lien and a chunk of iron ore which they left lying there. If they still had space in their packs they would pick it up on the way back. It wasn't really smart to go hunting with a huge chunk of iron weighing you down.

Howls suddenly resounded through the forest, and a cacophony of screeching answered, signalling that somewhere nearby was a flock of Nevermore and a pack of Beowulves.

"They probably heard your girly roar and are coming to investigate if there is a damsel in distress they can save. Come on, let's go."

Not waiting for Raynold to agree that they should skedaddle, Jaune simply started walking, the last words that were muttered in this chase being, "It's not girly, is it?"

They headed at a leisurely pace towards a ravine. No sense in running if they wanted to be chased, after all. The howls were getting closer and they weren't close enough to their objective that they could slow down, so the pair picked up their pace, two shadows flitting through the forest, one hopping on trees like a monkey and the other breathing heavily in his relatively heavy armour.

The ravine came into view, a small opening the only way of entering it. A choke hold.

Jaune started jumping on higher and higher branches and once he was near enough, jumped with all his might and caught himself on a rocky protrusion. Scrabbling up, he seated himself in a meditative position and watched as Raynold retreated a bit into the ravine. It was tight enough that only one Grimm at a time could actually enter it.

The Beowulf pack came into view. There were six, no, eight of them. More than usual, but nothing they couldn't handle. No Nevermore in sight. They might have been distracted by something.

His job now was to make sure that Ray had a small break between each opponent. A small purple ball crackling with energy and green lightning started forming over his right shoulder. Really, the Grimm in this area were just too easy.

-/-

Jaune was sitting before the dungeon. Or more like standing before it since sitting down in a river with a fairly rapid current wasn't the most genius of ideas. He was still agonising over who to ask to explore the dungeon with him, mum or Raynold.

With Joanne he would be extremely safe, but partying with her wouldn't give him as much experience since she was higher level. Raynold, however, would make for an equal EXP distribution but would be riskier.

"I hate making decisions."

The choice was suddenly taken from him by a loud growl echoing through the forest behind him. The mage spun around to find himself staring at a fucking Ursa of all things.

"You have got to be kidding me." The mutter didn't elicit any kind of reaction from the universe, implying that this was not, in fact, a bad joke. Normally Jaune could just run away from an Ursa by hopping onto a tree and high-tailing it out of there, but Jaune was, at the moment, waist-deep in water.

He instantly made the most powerful arcane bolt he could manage and shot it into the bear's face. Unsurprisingly, it didn't elicit any reaction other than maybe pissing it off and making it stalk towards him faster.

The mage wasn't one for dawdling in dangerous situations, a great contrast to his dawdling in non-dangerous ones. He immediately spun around and dove into the water, his goal being the dungeon.

Swimming only a few metres, he slipped into the cave.

-/-

The first thing that he noted was the feeling the cave entrance behind him made as it disappeared. Dungeons tended to do that. There were only two ways out of one after you've entered. Either finding the one secret passage out of there, or defeating the final boss. Or instead of a boss, cracking the puzzle in some cases.

This was a fairly weak dungeon so it shouldn't be that hard to beat. Soloing it was just extremely risky. Jaune looked around. He was in a dank cave, with only one way leading forward, as expected. The only reason he could see at all was thanks to the mushrooms growing on the walls that seemed to glow a faint fluorescent blue.

The ground he walked on wasn't ground, it was sand, he noted with surprise. Well, the environment inside a dungeon was known to differ from the one outside. At least it was a beach and not a volcano. That would have sucked pretty hard.

The walls with mushrooms were, however, not so pleasant, with water condensing at the top and running down in rivulets. The stones were scraggly, jutting out in spikes and ridges. Jaune lamented the fact that he hadn't entered the river with all of his gear and made an inventory of what he had. Underwear and pants.

"I'm pretty fucked, aren't I." The words were uttered in a whisper, so as to not attract any monsters that were lurking in places unknown.

Jaune threw himself on the ground and lay on his back for a few moments, staring at the blue lights. He thought about what he was going to do. There really was only one option.

Complete the dungeon. No armour, no potions, no weapons, just his wits and his magic.

Honestly, this situation reminded him of a children's story. A boy fell into a dungeon and after many tribulations became a young hero worthy of his name. Except this time a happy ending wasn't certain. He would just have to make one himself then.

Pulling himself to his feet, Jaune headed towards the dark corridor, slipped inside and waited, and waited, and waited. Finally, his eyes started adjusting to the darkness that persisted where no mushrooms grew. Carefully moving forward, he stuck to one wall to not give himself away to the casual observer. The rocks jutting out scratched against his skin.

After a few minutes, he saw the same blue light that had permeated the last cave. His feet almost lost all movement as he moved as slowly as a snail.

Reaching the entrance, he peeked inside, making sure he was not seen. There in the middle of the room stood a fish with legs?

It was a fish with limbs to be more exact, its back turned to him. Other than that, the cave was empty. No corridors, no treasure chests, nothing. The fish had no clothing other than a loincloth, and had a dagger at its side. In its arms, it was holding a trident. How cliché.

It suddenly turned around, giving him a glimpse of a hideous face with the usual fish eyes that seemed to almost pop out of its skull. How did it breathe? Jaune focused and saw that it had no nose, yet its gills were expanding and contracting at regular intervals.

It started walking towards him, or more accurately the corridor he was standing in. Was it patrolling? His body shivered, informing him that if there was no sun, there was also no warmth.

Maybe he should talk to it. Most monsters in dungeons were semi-intelligent. There was even a dungeon in Atlas where people traded with its inhabitants. Jaune stepped out of the corridor into the sight of the fishman, his hands raised as a sign of peaceful intentions.

"I come in pe-" The thing suddenly shrieked louder than he would have imagined possible for a creature that should actually live underwater. It raised its trident above its head, pointed it towards him in a comical display of inefficient weapon handling. Well, comical if it wasn't running towards him on its stubby legs, clearly intending to spear him.

Jaune jumped back and threw out an arcane bolt. No use in entering close combat with an armed enemy when he still had a mostly full mana pool.

The bolt flew true, impacting the thing's head at what should have been sufficient velocity to blow its brains out. It stumbled back a bit, but otherwise didn't seem to notice, the bolt splashing harmlessly on its face.

The only thoughts Jaune could properly form as he started backpedalling away from the apparently magic-immune fish were a series of fuck, fuck, fuck.

Gathering another, more powerful bolt, this time he sent it flying directly at its crotch. The target not being its dick (get your mind out of the gutter), but rather the only article of clothing it had, the loincloth. At the impact of the bolt, it was ripped from the things body and fell to the ground with the dagger it had been holding up.

Incidentally, it also revealed the thing's obviously human genitalia that then proceeded to flop around madly.

Sadly Jaune couldn't avert his eyes as he had to watch the human part of its body for signs that his magic had worked on it. There! A bruise was forming. Jaune narrowed his eyes. It was regaining its momentum, so not much time to think… Its human parts seemed to be susceptible to magic, at least more than its fish ones.

Jaune gathered another bolt, waited for the right moment, and shot it at the thing's right knee just as it was mid step.

The fish swivelled its leg, avoiding the bolt. It was nearly upon him now. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck. Time to enter close combat then, the thing had already caught onto his magical shenanigans. Time to use the element of surprise.

Jaune used up the last dredges of his mana, leaving barely enough for another bolt, and jumped forward, foot raised in a stomp. The bolt hit its midriff as expected, making the thing recoil a bit. It gave Jaune the opening he needed to smash his bare foot into the thing's knee with all his strength. A wet crack resounded, and the leg bent backwards, a small white protrusion appearing. Trying not to lose his momentum, Jaune grabbed onto the trident the thing had foolishly been waving around above its head and tried to wrestle it away.

The move brought him close to its face, finally allowing the rank smell to hit him. A growl escaped his throat. He fucking hated fish.

Wrestling the trident away was a no go. He'd already nearly gone deaf from the thing's screeching and his knees hurt since he was trying to pummel the thing into submission with them, its broken one preventing it from retaliating in the same manner.

Suddenly it opened its mouth, revealing a row of serrated teeth. Its breath smelled like days-old garbage simmering in the sun, and Jaune rewarded it with a weak bolt down its gullet. He was running on empty now.

The arcane magic flowing down its throat distracted it long enough for him to finally get a grip on the trident, and he rappelled himself up, laboriously breathing. Then he stabbed into the writhing thing's body, not trusting himself to successfully hit its squirming head.

He pulled the trident out and stabbed down again, and again, and again until the fishman wasn't moving anymore. Just to be sure, he stabbed into its now unmoving head one last time, making it give a spastic jerk.

The mage collapsed onto his back, the blood-soaked sand warming his shivering body before that as well lost its warmth. Jaune tried to get a hold of his breathing, but couldn't. Adrenaline was still coursing through his body at a rapid pace.

Despite his protesting body, he stood up and started moving to the corridor again. Hmm, their chase had led him into the first cave again. He looked around just to make sure. Nope, no way out suddenly opening, meaning that this fishman, despite how it had almost killed him, was not in fact a boss.

Steps weary, he didn't walk so much as drag his feet towards the second cavern. His foot bumped into something hard, the dagger. Thankfully it was sheathed. He hadn't gotten hurt much during that fight, would be pretty sad if he cut his foot afterwards.

He picked it up with the loincloth, marking both with the fishman's watery blood. He should probably have felt sorry for killing another sentient being, but unsurprisingly couldn't.

The second cave was empty, except for a stone circle in the middle of the room. Probably some mechanism you had to step on to activate. He definitely wasn't going to do so now.

A wave of dizziness hit him, making him fall and have to catch himself on the walls. The sharp stones cut into his palm.

Jaune move back to the first cave. The adrenaline was gone now, he was going to crash soon enough. The fact that he had strained his mana to the last not helping matters, and as his last feat of strength Jaune managed to drag the fishman's body back to the second cave with shaking hands and make it back to the first one.

This way, if more fishman came into the cave through the use of the stone circle (which he assumed was some mechanism to open a door), they would immediately start shrieking, hopefully giving him enough time to prepare himself for another fight.

Trying to cover as much of his body with the thing's smelly loincloth, Jaune fell asleep on the sandy ground.

-/-

Crying was an instinct that newly born children used to communicate with the outside world since they could neither speak the language nor articulate their desires in any other way.

Since as a baby you mostly needed to communicate when you were experiencing something unpleasant and needed help, crying had a certain negative reputation. As they grew up, these babies of course learned that when they cried, someone would come and help them. Through constant reinforcement of that fact, even adults were still prone to bitching like little kids whenever they didn't like something.

Not crying, just bitching.

There were, of course, other tears, tears that were shed from emotional and physical pain. Jaune hadn't cried in a while. It wasn't socially acceptable to cry as a man.

So imagine his surprise when the first thing his body did when it woke up from its unrestful slumber was to scream its lungs out.

He hit the sand he was lying in. There was snot running down his nose and his puffy eyes failed to identify his surroundings due to the obscuring salty fluid.

Rolling around on the ground, he reached the walls and tumbled into them like a moron trying to do a barrel roll on the ground. The pain that Jaune felt as the spiky wall cut up his back somewhat ironically made him stop his hysterics and let him calm down.

First things first, the condition of his body. As expected he was tired as all hell. The problem was the shivering; it was too internal to be caused by the cold. He raised a hand and put it to his forehead. He was burning up. A hand under his armpit confirmed that he probably had a fever.

He was stuck alone in a dungeon, where the first monster he met almost killed him and he had a fever.

He was going to die.

Jaune Arc was going to die.

Jaune Arc was going to die before he did any of the things he had wanted to do.

But no, if he continued onwards there was a minuscule chance of survival. Rather than the 0% chance of survival if he just lay here and gave up.

The incessant pinging at the back of his head made him aware of the fact that he had gained a level and now had one point to assign. He immediately put it into constitution, without a doubt in combat the most worthless statistic for a mage. But sick, hungry, and thirsty, it was the statistic most likely to keep him alive outside of combat.

The thought reminded him of his need to answer nature's call, and… he was also thirsty as fuck. Due to the fever, he had spent the whole night sweating, almost turning the sand under him into mud. The problem was that he had nothing to drink. Jaune stumbled towards the fishman corpse and stabbed it.

Glistening water poured out, slightly thicker than real water. Did it share any properties with normal blood at all? It hadn't congealed after what was probably half a day? He felt oddly thirsty looking at the fluid.

The pressure in his bladder made him aware of another possibility. Urine or the watery blood of a fishman of dubious origins. Well, he was going to have to eat the fishman anyway. No way was he entering the next cave on an empty stomach.

Jaune pulled out the dagger and got to work.

Afterwards, he felt disgusted with himself, yet also comically proud. This was proof that he wasn't someone who would just lay down and die once things got hard. It was gross proof, though.

He stared at the stone circle on the ground next to the dissected fishman corpse. There was a rune engraved on the stone. It wasn't one he had ever seen before, not that he was a rune-based enchanter, which was basically the only job that actually used the sigils.

With a sigh, he realised he was procrastinating. He was as prepared as he was going to be, trident in one hand, dagger stuck into the waistband of his pants. The longer he delayed the smaller his chances of surviving were. He stepped onto the circle, expecting maybe a hidden door to open or the ground beneath him to disappear.

Jaune was instantly teleported away.

* * *

 **I honestly think that the scene with the Ursa forcing Jaune into entering the dungeon was a big blunder, but after much thought, I have concluded that I am simply too new to writing to actually make it better (will maybe edit in the future). Also the first fight scene, many hours were sunk into improving it from the original. I tried making it reflect what an actual fight looks like in real life. Short and very advantageous for the one with more intelligence, skill or strength. I'm not sure if you will like it, but at the moment it's the best I can produce. All that you as a reader can do is pray I get better at writing quickly. Or offer some constructive criticism. Who knows.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I also write original fiction under the same username on Royalroadl.**

 **chapter 4**

 **Edited by 5th dimension**

* * *

A spiralling descent of magic and colours he did not know the name of assailed him as he swirled and unfurled through what felt like a small tube.

Then Jaune was unceremoniously dumped on a hard wooden floor.

For a few moments, he just lay there, trying not to throw up. After miraculously succeeding, he righted himself and looked around.

He was currently in a shabby shed. An outpost maybe?

Beneath him the stone circle was still glowing purple. He got off of it; no sense in making the same journey back. On the right of the circle he'd come from was another one. Absolutely identical.

Jaune stood up and inspected his surroundings, noting that the source of light was an oil lamp. Maybe the Fishmen weren't as primitive as he'd thought. Or the fishman had been just a slave or worked under a species possessing higher intellect. Jaune felt his body unwind as he started to think, and took in the shed in its entirety.

A wooden tile floor, the two teleportation arrays, shelves stacked with dried fruit and meat. His eye twitched at that one. He'd eaten another sapient being for nothing.

"Not for nothing. I couldn't have known."

And the most important part was the fact that the shed didn't have a door. The only way to access it were the teleportation arrays.

Jaune would have honestly creamed himself (whatever that meant) if he had found these babies in a non-hostile environment, but he couldn't really sit down and study the things in enemy territory. Or could he? There was enough food here for at least a week, but sadly there was no water. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, though.

He decided he would return here and study it if he found a reliable supply of water and food. Maybe some clothing and medicine as well, he thought as his body shivered and his mind swam from a slight fever. He was still running around in only pants after all.

Jaune sighed, stood up, and started packing up the food to take with him. He really wanted to just stay here and maybe wait to get rescued or recuperate from his bad condition. It was pretty warm here compared to the caves.

But he knew he couldn't. If he waited, fear would grip his heart and not let him go any further. He was familiar with himself after all.

He gripped the trident. It had thankfully not been impaled into his body by the rough teleportation in his sweaty palms. He slung the improvised bag with food over his shoulder and entered the teleportation array that he hadn't been through yet.

The moment he got his feet under him, Jaune crouched in a defensive position, trident planted so that if any enemy was already running towards him, they would impale themselves on it.

First things first, identify his surroundings.

Another cave like the one before the shed, same mushrooms bringing light, and almost identical sand under his feet. Just that this sand, if possible, felt even finer.

The cave was about as big as a standard living room. Well, maybe not so standard since the Arc living room was quite huge, sometimes having to hold as many as nine people.

As he was looking around, he noted that this time the circle under his feet hadn't glown purple. Not important right now. His blood froze when he noticed two still shapes hidden in the corridor exiting the cave. They weren't moving towards him but he still entered the teleportation array again to be whisked back into the shed, where he could devise a plan against two enemies.

The array didn't activate.

The young mage just crouched there completely still, a complete opposite to the thoughts running through his head.

The Fishmen still hadn't noticed him, he deduced by their unmoving forms. That was good. He didn't know how he would kill two at the same time. He almost flinched at how fast his thoughts immediately went to killing. It was do or die though, wasn't it? He would have chuckled, if not for obvious reasons.

The first fishman had been armed, while he hadn't been, though now he had a trident he didn't really know how to use and a dagger he didn't really know how to use. Still better than nothing, but could he challenge the two fishman with his better than nothing?

He could, but it would be dumb. He needed to calm down and think. There must be some way to sway the odds in his favour.

What did he know about Fishmen? They screeched loudly, their fish parts were resistant to magic, their human parts not, they were sapient yet not particularly intelligent. His brow furrowed as he thought of how the fishman had run at him, trident raised above his head. Inexperienced in combat?

No, he couldn't label an entire species by one specimen. Maybe the one he had encountered was particularly inexperienced, or dim.

Now what did he know about these two fishman? He couldn't make out much since they were hiding in the shadows, but he clearly saw the silhouette of a trident in the hands of one and what appeared to be a net in the hands of the other. The one with the net, incidentally the one standing on the right, also had a dagger slung in his loincloth. He couldn't see if the other one was similarly equipped.

What to do, what to do...

He didn't know how much time had passed. It felt like an eternity. It had probably been five minutes when he finally came up with a plan, even if it was a bad one.

He had read a lot of books about adventuring. Sure, some had been of the more made-up category, but one thing they sometimes agreed on was throwing a stone to make a noise somewhere to lure an enemy there so you could either pick off him or his now lone partner.

Only problem being, he didn't have any stones. He could try to rip one off of the walls here, but that would create enough noise that they would immediately find him. Maybe. They were apparently half-blind, but he couldn't base his plan on a hope that they were also half-deaf.

What did he have that was hard enough to make a clear sound once it hit something. His weapons? No, throwing away your weapons was a very dumb move. The thought of magic, of course, led him towards his magic.

Immediately he tried to make an arcane bolt as stealthily as possible. It was a slow formation, the almost electrical green inside of it muted. Then he shot it off at the corridor behind the Fishmen.

A loud smashing sound resounded from the corridor, making both forms perk up, stones clattering on the ground. They then proceeded to walk towards the disturbance, tridents held out competently before them. Together.

Thank you books, you have failed me once again.

After a while, they came back, but this time stood in their previous positions noticeably more alert than before. Shit, he had made them actually take their jobs seriously for a while, making an ambush even harder. He tried stepping on the array behind him again.

Nope.

Time for plan B then. B for bolt. He formed one as powerful as he could and shot it with pinpoint precision at the knee cap of the fishman with the net. Simply by his weapon choice, he was more dangerous.

He almost retched as he heard the sound of a kneecap breaking for the second time in as many days.

He immediately started forming a second bolt as the fishman with the trident started running towards him. He crouched down, his own trident held before him.

When the enemy was near enough, he fired off his bolt at the midsection of the seemingly competent trident-wielder. Only for the fishman to jump into the air like some demented acrobat, do a flip over the bolt, and hold the trident above his head in a move worthy of a Spartan action hero.

Or at least it would have been if he didn't impale himself on Jaune's weapon when he landed. The corpse fell to the ground, and Jaune's arms not strong enough to support the entire weight.

"I swear to god, all of these creatures are absolutely autistic."

As the immediate danger passed so did his hyper focus and he started recognising other stimuli.

"REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Like, for example, the sound the cripple lying on the ground was making. Wait. Jaune furrowed his brows. The sound was way too powerful to be coming out of just one throat.

His eyes widened when he saw the corridor he had thrown an arcane bolt into earlier literally start bursting with Fishmen holding up all kinds of weapons, not caring that they were stabbing each other, and nearly frothing at the mouth.

Four, five, no more. From the noise, it was probably a number approaching a dozen. Instead of standing his ground like some dumb melee class pleb, Jaune prayed to all gods the teleportation array was working again, hauled the dead fishman under its armpits, and dragged him along into the circle.

Thankfully he found himself back in the shed the next second.

After he stopped thinking about the dozen or so Fishmen that were going to be coming for his ass in approximately five minutes when the array stopped recharging or whatever it did, the first thing he noticed was the fact that he was thirsty.

He turned to the corpse in his arms and made a disgusted face at the watery, clear blood that had seeped onto his upper body. Unfortunately, this was the best out of two options considering what other fluids he had available.

After he was done, the mage started carrying out his plan. A plan that had come quite easily, and was likelier to work than the stupid throw-a-stone-to-distract-them plan.

The teleportation arrays were only big enough for two grown adult humans, or three Fishmen, and had a cooldown of about five minutes. This meant that even if on the other side there were a hundred monsters with the wish to kill him, he would only have to fight three at a time in hopefully five-minute intervals. It would suck if the Fishmen knew how to recharge the arrays faster.

First things first, Jaune started gathering all the food in there. It didn't make any sense to fight here, so he would have to go back to the first cave system, and he didn't want to find out that the Fishmen were smart enough to starve him out by dying of hunger in a week.

After he was done, he dragged the body towards the array leading to the empty cave and hopped on, teleporting himself to his destination.

It was the smell that hit him first, but he didn't budge from his spot, noting the direction he was facing.

He was looking at the corridor leading to the now-sealed entrance.

Jaune found the source of the smell fairly easily. It was the now rotting corpse of the first fishman he'd killed and left here to warn him if any others came.

He would leave it there for now. Not that he particularly wanted to touch the decomposing thing with a ninety-foot pole, its slippery intestines spread out on the ground and the congealed blood mixing with the sand.

No thank you.

If he were a fishman, what would he do after coming through the circle? Go through the corridor after discerning there was nobody in the room he arrived in.

Ok.

Jaune threw the corpse he had brought with him on the wall opposite of the passage, the place the fishman would not be looking at after they arrived. Probably.

Then Jaune steeled himself and started shimmying behind the corpse, trying to ignore the sharp pricks of the stone wall stabbing into his back. Once he was fully concealed behind the bigger-than-him fishman, he started waiting, waiting, and waiting.

The thing that tipped him off to the arrival of the Fishmen was their screeching. He noted that teleportation did not cause a sound as it activated. Now was the time to see if his gamble paid off.

After a few more screeches, he felt more than saw the Fishmen start walking down the hall. Counting down five seconds, the time he himself needed to arrive at the halfway point of the tunnel, he slowly extracted himself from behind the body. He saw a fishman standing before the array, back to him. Must have been there to guard the circle. Stupid of them, they shouldn't have split up.

Jaune pulled out the dagger and slowly crept up behind the thing, made only easier by the sand beneath his feet. He could have stuck his hand before its mouth to prevent its scream, but that would have likely incapacitated his hand, as the thing would bite into it with its serrated teeth. A weird thought to have, Jaune found as he stuck the dagger into the Fishman's throat.

Surprisingly it did not scream, only gurgle a bit. He slowly lead the dying thing to the ground as to not make any noise.

The fishman was sadly equipped with only a trident and a dagger, nothing he didn't already have.

"RRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE."

His eardrums vibrated with pain and he threw himself backwards, forming an arcane bolt over his shoulder. The fishman that had scouted the entrance had returned. No, he saw another silhouette behind him. The two others that had scouted the entrance had returned and were unsurprisingly not happy about finding their buddy dead.

They then promptly expressed their unhappiness with Jaune by throwing a spear at him. He threw himself on the ground to dodge. While this was happening, the first one started running at him, the second trying to flank to the left.

After two of these fights the panic that had hit him back then was mostly gone. Jaune was still scared shitless, but not to a point where he might actually shit his pants.

He threw an arcane bolt at the first one who was coming at him with a sword, but at the last second swerved the bolt to the left, hitting the other fishman slightly behind the first in the face, staggering its progress.

For an amateur at the weapon, Jaune thought his stab into the fishman's face was fairly on point. A trident had a longer reach than a sword, after all, which decided the fight between two people who didn't know their weapons.

But he wasn't an amateur with a sword. He was a novice, making him leagues above people who didn't have a skill. Because of that he largely ignored the last closing in enemy to hurriedly pick up the sword from the fishman's slackening fingers and discarded the trident. He threw himself into a roll to avoid a trident stabbing at his earlier position.

Righting himself, familiar weapon in hand, Jaune cut diagonally at his foe and when the monster parried it, kicked it in the stomach with all his might. He threw it on the ground, making it very easy to just step up and stab into its heart, or where he assumed the heart was.

The fight exhausted his stamina, even if it'd only been twenty seconds since he had assassinated the first enemy. Jaune fell on the ground panting. Not only from physical exhaustion but also from the mental one.

When he looked around the cave, now fairly full with the five corpses. he couldn't help but think of how many more hiding places he now had.

-/-

Jaune hadn't known how much he'd missed having a sword in the last two days until he held one in his hands, easily slicing through the last fishman of the newest group sent to challenge him.

The fights had been getting easier and harder at the same time. Easier since now, equipped with a weapon he had a skill for in one hand and an arcane bolt in the other, he was strong enough to kill three Fishmen in combat even if he didn't get the drop on one.

These fights the last two days had also been his first experience fighting in melee. Sparring with mum or Ray didn't really count as real combat experience considering they weren't trying to kill him, so the more he fought, the better he knew what to do the next time.

If getting double-teamed, try to keep the one attacking you at the moment between yourself and the other one. Don't try fancy acrobatics; you couldn't dodge mid-air. And so on.

On the other hands, bruises and cuts accumulated on his body, his breathing grew increasingly laborious, and the cuts that he received due to his tiredness began to itch. He was also running out of mana.

Despite all that, his determination soared with every enemy he cut down. Jaune Arc was not going to die in some random-ass dungeon simply because a random-ass Ursa wandered into a zone it really had nothing to do in.

Then, the enemies stopped coming. The mage had gotten pretty good at judging the timing between when the groups would come in. Once they didn't for once after five parties, he was relieved at the chance to maybe rest, but he couldn't let himself fall asleep. After some thought, a miraculous feat for his feverish mind, he concluded there were three possibilities.

One, an intelligent commander of the Fishmen had appeared and was trying to lull him into a false sense of security.

Two, they were simply planning on letting him starve or dehydrate on this side and if he entered the array he would be ambushed. A good strategy. The blood of his recently deceased enemies would soon start to coagulate and he would have nothing to drink by tomorrow. After two days he would not be in any condition to fight and would probably die.

Three, they had simply run out of bodies to throw at him. Not likely. If Jaune himself could wipe out all the forces of a dungeon, even a supposedly weak one, they wouldn't be so feared.

The most likely option was that what he had encountered was simply a garrison, and they had been too dumb to actually send a messenger to their base camp, or boss room or whatever, to tell them they needed reinforcements and that there was an enemy in the dungeon. And had then simply sent everyone they had at him, leaving the garrison unmanned.

Jaune sweat-dropped. It was truly a state of affairs that this was the likeliest option, simply because he himself had seen how feeble-minded the creatures truly were.

But was he willing to gamble on those chances and fall asleep here? That was the question.

It was starting to reek too.

He would no doubt get used to it. Humans were adaptable, but before he could go rest he would have to place a few noisy traps to wake him up if any Fishmen came despite the odds.

Maybe some pile of corps-

In that moment, despite the fact Jaune had gained two points in constitution, his body gave out due to extreme exhaustion and he fell to the ground unconscious.

-/-

Jaune woke up few hours later, thankfully being alive enough to wake up, amidst what looked like a slaughterhouse dedicated to killing fish-man hybrids. Their glassy eyes stared at him, accusatory, even in death.

Judging him for taking so many lives in such a short span.

Getting angry for some inexplicable reason, Jaune sprang up, roared, and threw one of the tridents laying about at the head of the nearest corpse, spearing it directly in its eyes.

"Don't look at me like that, you made me do it!"

Jaune sank to the ground and almost started crying, but stopped himself, since he didn't really have the fluid to spare. He dragged himself towards the wall with the least blood on it, propped himself up in a sitting position, and started listlessly practising arcane bolt.

"Seek power now so that in the future you do not regret not having it indeed, huh."

He didn't remember where he'd read the quote. He read a lot of books, even if access to literature was a bit faulty in a small village like Aschen.

He fondly remembered saving up his allowance for a book he had seen the peddler bring the last time. He couldn't believe these days were only one week gone.

It seemed like an impossibly long time.

His mana ran out. Jaune closed his eyes and started imagining fighting against an imaginary opponent. At some point, he fell asleep again, plagued by nightmares and insecurities.

* * *

 **A chapter one week after the last. Truly a miraculous occasion, sadly for you, not an occasion that is going to be common. I am a schoolboy and today is the last day of my vacation.**

 **Sad, I know, cri 4 me pls.**

 **Well during vacations I, of course, write more, two chapters in a week being the result. After this, the schedule will go back to a chapter every month or so. At least until summer vacation, which will be 5 weeks long, I will have to see if I will have any more than usual free time there. Since I also have other hobbies. Like gaming, sports and stuff...**


	5. Chapter 5

**I also write original fiction under the same username on Royalroadl.**

 **Chapter 5**

 **Edited by 5th dimension**

* * *

The second he came through the teleportation array, practice making him capable of assuming a standing position after the warp, Jaune threw himself to the left in a roll and came up sword held before him and arcane bolt crackling over his left shoulder.

Only to find no sign of life, no matter how much he strained his eyes to look into the nooks and crannies of the cave.

"Option three it was then, not that I'm surprised. "The sound of his muttering echoed through the small cavern louder than one would expect. "Look at me, a few days without human interaction and I'm already talking with myself."

Jaune started creeping towards the unexplored gateway to the place, where formerly almost a dozen of Fishmen had come out. Keeping to the shadows, going slowly making sure no sound whatsoever was made.

One thing he had learned in the series of battles he'd barely survived was the fact fishman had really shitty senses, which made sense when you actually thought about it, their sensory organs, eyes, ears and so on. Were all that of a fish. A fish lived underwater, eyes that were made to see underwater and ears that were made to receive sound waves through fluid probably weren't as functional on dry land.

Another thing he had learned was also the fact that the more human traits a Fishman had, the more intelligent they were.

The ones with slightly more human skin were always just a tad more competent, not something you would notice in one fight. But Jaune had fought eleven and had then spent time in an enclosed space with their corpses, their previous fights traumatizingly raging through his adrenaline ran mind, yeah...

Once he came to the other side Jaune couldn't help but gasp at the sight before him, of course only after he'd discerned there were no enemies nearby, yes-sir.

He stood on a cliff overlooking a cave of truly monstrous proportions, on the walls what must have been millions of softly glowing blue shrooms gave it an ethereal light, majestic almost. If not for what was to be found below the cliff.

A sprawling city of tents, Fishmen bustling fro and about with a lake in the middle, Fishmen of all colours, light reflecting off their scales.

Jaune couldn't help but curse, "Fuck."

On his left and right the cliff extended to about half of the cave system, he was able to discern a few distant moving specs, probably fishman camping before other tunnel systems. There was no way leading down to what you could almost call a city, only a steep drop of about a hundred meters.

There must have been a teleportation array leading down there somewhere up here. Not that Jaune was going to go looking for them anytime soon.

There were generally two ways to escape a dungeon, either to defeat the boss in his boss room or to find a secret exit. Suffice to say Jaune wasn't about to go look for the Überfish, the weakest ones were already enough for him.

The only thing left for him to do was to decide which direction he was going to go in. Hehe, only thing left for him to do, left, left it was then.

Jaune turned to his left looking towards the seemingly endless expanse of cliff that only spanned half the actual cave, a few dots marring the otherwise beautiful scenery and started lurking.

He didn't encounter any of the aquatic monstrosities hiding in some crevice just to suddenly jump out and try to kill him, but what he did encounter were some teleportation arrays, all identical on the ground.

He didn't step on them of course, the fact that they had a cooldown period and could possibly deposit him directly into the middle of the fishman city turned him off the idea.

The sand at least was pleasant to walk on, he was getting thirsty though, he was going to need to find some more of his walking blood bags, ironic considering there was a lake under him, not that he knew if the lake was safe to drink from.

What he wouldn't do for a rope, bottle and a way to make fire.

Just as his thoughts started to drift towards the unproductive he was able to make out one of the dots. A seemingly random fishman serial number #42147. There was only one difference, this one had a bow.

Thankfully he was just patrolling peacefully along a strip of the cliff wall that appeared to have some holes in it. Supplies maybe? And more importantly, it was alone, with the nearest dot still indistinguishable almost a mile away down the road.

The young mage plopped himself on the ground after looking behind to confirm there was nobody there and waited, trying to discern if there was any sort of pattern to the things movement, and after maybe an hour of watching, lo and behold, he found one.

Every now and then, the fishman would grow fidgety, when he did that, he patrolled until the end of the line he patrolled along, and then, he would pull out a blue mushroom and squeeze it over his head, releasing what looked like a bunch of fluid over him, almost looked like a shower Jaune had heard some rich people in cities had.

He waited until the thing started growing fidgety with its back turned to him, his theory being that it would be too distracted to use its subpar senses in its water depraved state to even try to prevent and ambush.

He then slowly closed the distance between them, his feet occasionally making scuffing noises on the sand, and his heart beating in his chest so loud he was sure the thing was going to turn around anytime soon.

He came close enough, and with one stroke of his newly acquired sword Jaune was able to kill the thing and secure himself something to drink.

He furrowed his brows, was this what being an Assassin felt like, born in a family of Knights he had been raised to, if not despise, then at least strongly dislike the Class.

Not made better by the fact he was a Mage. Mages at the later levels were capable of doing incredible amounts of damage to a battlefield, the ones most often sent to assassinate them were, well, Assassins.

He could understand the unease most people felt against the Class, people were afraid because bakers baked, farmers farmed, and Assassins killed people, they were often referred to as cowardly, Jaune, however, had grown self-aware enough to know it was simply easier to survive if your enemy never saw you coming.

A fight with a monster or Grimm, no matter how much stronger you were, always had a chance of death, it might be minuscule, but it was there, and like the old proverb went.

 _If you keep doin shit, that has even a small chance of killing ya, someday, you're gonna get killed!_

Wise words, truly, grandpa, you will be missed.

Jaune decided that he quite liked assassination, no matter how much the act probably made his ancestors turn in their graves.

But now it was time to look into the things the Fishman had been patrolling, he hadn't dared to while stalking the now corpse simply in case the thing had randomly turned around.

Before that, the bow, a bow would be pretty useful, his mana wasn't limitless, just that it wasn't a bow, but a stick with a rope bound on it, damn.

Whatever, he walked up to one of the holes in the wall, they were releasing a horrible stench. Maybe a corpse depository, but when he took a look inside he had to blink, no, not a corpse depository, the opposite rather.

Eggs, big, fish eggs, submerged in murky and stale looking water, reeking of rot and other gross stuff.

Jaune wondered if he would get any Experience from killing the things.

Jaune threw an arcane bolt. Yes he would, one egg probably gave him the same amount of Experience reading a book gave him as a mage, in other words, he would need about a million to get one level.

But he was pretty close to level nine.

Not that he wouldn't have done it if he hadn't gotten the small amount of Exp, a hero was obligated to kill all dungeon spawn, lest they reproduce too much, escape the dungeon and start killing humans.

Not that Jaune was a hero yet, more like, aspiring to be one, he was starting to see the bad parts of the job in this dungeon, but not enough to make him stop wanting to follow in the footsteps of his family.

He was going to need to find something he could kill the things with though, it wasn't economic to use arcane bolt due to the mana cost and using the sword just felt wrong.

The mage looked behind himself, his eyes falling on the rope stick with a rope lying abandoned on the ground, that would do.

After he was done with the cauldrons of children he had brutally murdered before they ever had a chance to enter the world, wait, Jaune thought to himself, that sounded really wrong.

After Jaune had committed the first ethnic cleansing of his life he decided after reaching Level nine off of it, that the experience in itself was an 8/10 would do again.

Two points detracted because of the disgusting smell and the horrendously high-quality graphics that weren't really needed when depicting a scene of such horrendous ewwwwww.

The Experience made him think a little, he had already decided that he needed to be strong, out of necessity to be able to keep his freedom if others ever found out about his capabilities and simply because having strength was an old adage of the Arcs, a weakling wasn't going to save anyone after all, especially not themselves.

But here he was, in a dungeon that he decided, wasn't as overbearing as he first thought now that he had a sword and some experience actually fighting the inhabitants. Hell, he'd defeated a dozen of them. Sure they'd come at him in waves of three and he'd assassinated one of them practically every time before the fight even began. But he was confident he could survive in his present environment.

And while he was at it, gain many, many Levels, he let his gaze sweep about in the seemingly endless cave and the lone guardsman patrolling the half as endless cliff, many, many, many Levels.

Jaune decided he regretted his decision approximately a week later while hauling ass away from what must have been hundreds of Fishmen chasing him with what must have been the intention of brutally murdering him.

He guessed they didn't really appreciate him killing their yet to be born children, expected true. He interrupted his thoughts to concentrate on jumping over another fishman corpse, one he had killed on his way to the left end side of the cliff, but he hadn't thought they would catch up so soon to what he was doing.

From his observations all the monsters were quite isolated from one another, only needing the blue mushrooms that provided fluid to survive and continue their seldom anything but exciting tasks for at minimum of a week.

Minimum of a week because after a week of his genocidal crusade they had apparently sent an elite taskforce of Fishmen after him that compensated for their expected retardation with sheer numbers.

He didn't know how this many had been able to enter the cliffs with him unaware but he suspected a gigantic teleportation array that was meant to transfer the newly born children from the cliffs towards the city of tents down by the lake.

His goal was coming nearer, his body not necessarily faster than then Fishmen but they were just running each other over in their haste to drink his blood for once, as a sort of poetic revenge.

Jaune hadn't been stupid enough to try and drink the fluid the mushrooms expelled, blood was fine, something that had already proven to be safe to drink, he wasn't going to sacrifice his well-being for mere comfort.

As he came to a cave just before the one where he had entered his heart dropped, from the other side of the cliff another frenzy of fish were approaching.

They would cut him off just before he reached the place where he could whisk himself into to do a repeat performance of Jaune vs a dozen fishman, but this time against what now appeared to be 200.

As the only choice left to him Jaune jumped to the unexplored cave approaching from the right.

As he entered it he remembered why he left it unexplored, a dozen pairs of eyes blinked at him, and probably at the angry shouts coming approaching behind him.

He ignored them, hoping that the appearance of a human was too shocking to actually make them attack him, he ran past them at full speed, through the corridor, into another cave, guarded by two Fishmen just like last time and threw himself into the teleportation array at the end of it before they even readied their weapons.

Just to find himself in a shed eerily similar to the first one he'd entered in this dungeon. His body slumped against the wall, his heart beating faster than a nevermore could fly and his hands shaking, almost vibrating against his thighs as he gripped them to recover his breathing.

He had been stupid, risking his life for Levels, he had only gained one in the end, every time you leveled up the next one would require more experience. Depicted in graph it would be the simple function of an upward concave, just that it would rise sharply after every nine, it was, theorized, that from Levels nine to ten you needed the same amount of experience you need to rise from one to nine.

It didn't matter if it was right or wrong, it was definitely close enough to not matter.

His time was running out though, the teleportation arrays he had encountered before had a reload time of a few minutes, and this cave system appeared to be identical to the one he had come through, so hopefully, there would be an exit at the end.

Calming himself, he took a look around, there was food, he took some of it, he had been forced to drop what he previously had with him when he noticed the fishman coming at him.

The tranquillity of his mind, that he liked to compare to a calm sea was raging at him like a storm, what he would find on the other side would decide his fate.

He wasn't arrogant enough to think he could defeat 200 Fishmen even if they came in waves of three, he called himself a greedy fool one last time and stepped onto the teleportation circle.

The other side was empty, narrowing his eyes he looked around to confirm it was really empty, it would be fairly ironic if he was the one to be assassinated this time. No, it was empty, he crept forward, then stopped, looked at the teleportation array.

If there wasn't an exit and he was forced to fight the ones after him, he would die, better to die on his own terms than to be captured and probably tortured by the retarded species.

He raised his sword and brought it down as powerfully as he could.

The teleportation array cracked, it flashed a sickly purple and expelled what appeared to be pure energy, it slammed into him and threw him back into the wall.

Groaning he managed to right himself, nothing seemed to be broken, but after his ears stopped ringing from the sound of the explosion, e heard a different kind of sound, a familiar screeching. Just, slightly different?

It was coming closer, fast, he struggled to his feet and readied his sword.

When the one making the sound came through the tunnel they both stared at each other, both armed with swords, one dressed in only pants the other dressed in what looked to be pants and a mesh shirt covered by a coat. One of the parties was decisively female.

And way more human looking than she had any right to be, the only thing revealing her aquatic ancestry being the fact she was even shorter than Jaune who was twelve, the gills on her neck, and the fact her hair wasn't hair, but fine tentacles.

Jaune didn't care, chivalry was dead, survival the only priority, he threw an arcane bolt which the enemy swiftly dodged, not even letting him graze her.

"So I was right, the more human you are the more competent and intelligent you become." His voice was raspy and unused, it wasn't like there was anybody to talk to around here.

She simply tilted her head at him and attacked, a fast downwards swing towards his unarmed left arm, as expected, the victory condition for Jaune wasn't to win this fight, they were to escape as quickly as possible.

He stepped into her guard and tried to shoulder check her away, only to be repelled by the sword, it changing directions towards his head making him back off.

A thrust of his sword was dodged, the consequent arcane bolt into the stomach was not and as she was forced backwards to regain her footing Jaune ran past her into the tunnel.

As he ran he heard fast steps catching up to him, after what seemed like an eternity he emerged to the final cave, to find, absolutely nothing.

No teleportation array, no exit, no hope.

This didn't mean he was just going to lie down and die though, he rolled to the right avoiding the thrust that would have clearly severed his spinal cord. As long as he stayed alive there was always hope someone would come rescue him and he thought he saw a small silhouette of something in the corner of the cave, just that the circular cave didn't have corners.

And he wasn't going to let himself get killed, and definitely not by this human looking bitch who was descended from same retarded species he had been fighting for almost two weeks now.

Her eyes locked firmly onto his as they clashed swords, to a master swordsman this would be just another two amateurs waving sticks at each other but to them, this was a life or death battle.

They were evenly matched, but Jaune had one advantage, he had magic, an arcane bolt sent to stagger her made her dodge into the direction of his sword, but at the last moment one of her arms wrapped itself behind his head, her other one dropped the sword she was holding and quicker than it should have been possible to draw a dagger from somewhere, as they both fell Jaune rammed his now misplaced sword into her head, sadly only the broadside, and she stabbed him straight in the stomach.

The pain was, oddly dampened, his head was spinning.

Laying on the ground, Jaune on top like some twisted lovers embrace, both felt darkness take them.

When consciousness found him a few moments later Jaune felt an incessant throbbing in his stomach area, then remembered, that yes, he had been stabbed.

"Fuck. "He was also pretty sure that the flecks of blood that came up as he tried to speak were not a good sign.

He untangled himself from the flurry of limbs he was lying in, ignoring the faintly breathing body beneath him, she would bleed out from her head wound anyway.

He staggered to his feet, dagger still stuck in his body and looked around, yes there it was, he had caught the brief silhouette of something lying on the ground before being drawn into the fight, as he came nearer and his vision swam he noted it looked suspiciously like a treasure chest.

His legs gave out under him, and suddenly the chest looked further than he could ever reach, but humans were geared to never stop trying to survive and Jaune was no different.

Now entering a sense of tranquillity, maybe because of his impending death, the mage heard the pinging at the back of his mind, that he had an attribute point to spend and two new skills he could acquire.

He didn't know if the one point he put in constitution was the turning point but he managed to drag himself to the treasure chest leaving a trail of blood behind him, the dagger tearing up his insides even further.

He couldn't think, opening the chest he found a phial filled with a green liquid and some greaves, damn nice ones, but items didn't heal one unless they were legendary class, and anytime you looked at an unclaimed legendary item you would immediately be mentally assaulted by its statistics and special effects.

Jaune focused on the phial, definitely not a healing potion, he uncorked it with shaky fingers and drank it anyway, it was his last chance if he did nothing he would die for sure, if he drank there was hope.

 **You have gained the statistic regeneration, it has been set to the value of 1, your healing factor is now twice the healing factor of others with the same stats but without regeneration would have.**

Lucky.

Now came the hard part, Jaune gripped the dagger still stuck in his stomach, having turned himself onto his back and after a heavy breath ripped it straight out, the pain making him black out again.

He awoke in a manner of seconds, one thing still left to do, the fact his stomach wound hurt to the high heavens had nothing to do with it.

With reaching Level ten he had gained access to two skills, inventory a skill that let him create a pocket dimension where he could store objects, he almost salivated at the description.

The fact it would be his second piece of activatable magic only making it sweeter.

Sadly, inventory would not help him in his situation, he was still stuck in a cave with a destroyed teleportation circle the only thing waiting for him if he somehow managed to repair it a hundred angry Fishmen.

It had a 0% chance of helping him escape.

The other skill however.. it was risky. Shared dreamscape, it would allow him to go to a place while dreaming, a place, where beings, occasionally people gathered.

The fact that the skill information said half of the people died due to interacting with these beings wasn't particularly encouraging. But no matter how minuscule, the skill had a slight chance of bringing him in contact with someone who could help him.

He picked shared dreamscape.

Something in his mind clicked making him exhale, he didn't think he could have handled any more pain plus the throbbing of his stomach.

Now he knew, with a certainty, that if he went to sleep, he could decide to visit the shared dreamscape.

But first, he would inspect the greaves he had ignored to get to the green potion that he was pretty sure saved his life. If they were in the same chest as a Stat giving potion, an elixir, of all things they must have been pretty valuable as well.

No, he was only scared of going to sleep. Afraid of what he would find there.

"Or what will find me. "The whisper was barely audible, followed by a sigh of resignation.

Jaune tried to make himself as comfortable as possible on his back, an unused sleeping position and went to sleep while activating his new skill.

 _Colours swirled in a whirlwind leading upwards picking him up and carrying him along, he tried to scream but he didn't have lungs-"The blood fool, use your blood." He didn't understand, who was he anyway?_

 _The word sounded to restricting, he wasn't he, he was everything,"THE BLOOD YOU FOOLISH CHILD, SPREAD IT ON THE WALL." What was this voice to tell him what to do, did it think it was better than him just because it could come from all directions and was very loud._

 _"You owe me one, use the blood." A shove went through his form, that wasn't really a form, but something else._ And Jaune jumped upright into a sitting position making his stomach erupt into agony with a scream.

Panting hard he spun around frantically to make sure there was no person about to jump him to tell him more about how he should use his blood.

Nobody there, just the corpse of the Fishwoman. He calmed down, apparently, the skill had worked, advice had been given, he should smear his blood on the wall? But which one?

Probably the one where the entrance would have been. Jaune righted himself up laboriously picked up his discarded sword and walked towards the wall that looked the same to the one that had been erected behind him as he's entered the dungeon.

"Blood huh."

He looked down at his sword and grimaced, the thing was covered in blood, guts and who knows what else, not a smart idea to cut yourself with that.

Jaune brought his left hand up to his mouth and bit into it. The familiar taste of blood burst onto his tongue in an explosion of flavour. He wanted to just drink it all, but reluctantly he pressed his now bleeding palm onto the wall.

Only for it to go right through, as the wall disappeared the instant it made contact with his hand, or rather, his blood. Behind the place where the wall had been but a minute ago was a depression that led to a hole in the ground filled with water.

The exit.

Jaune started breathing heavily, in and out, as he walked back to the wooden chest and looked at the greaves, a clear ping sound resounded as he tapped it.

 **Steel greaves:**

 **Condition of item will not deteriorate, User is able to run slightly faster.**

An artefact. This meant he could wear it even if it was metal.

Definitely high quality, the inner part of it was padded which meant he could put them on even while barefoot. During his deliberations, if he should take these things for a swim he never stopped breathing.

In the end, he pulled them on and without looking back, looking to forget that this dungeon had ever happened jumped into the water head first.

The swim wasn't long, a few seconds downwards, the water surprisingly warm, approximately fifteen seconds to get to the surface and then maybe a minute to get to the sandy shore.

Wait, sandy shore, Jaune looked down, yes, the shore was very sandy. A frown crossed his face, he didn't know any sandy lakes near Aschen.

And he doubted such rich yellow sand was found anywhere in Vale, it being more of a tropical climate.

He looked up but was immediately blinded by the harsh sun, then he saw where he was. The small fleck of green surrounding him, with sparse trees here and there, the lake in the middle was being swallowed up by a desert.

A seemingly endless monstrosity of sand, sand and more sand. Glinting in the sun, it being the first real light he had seen in weeks probably, the mushrooms not counting, it almost blinded him.

Jaune only knew of one place that had a desert.

Vacuo.

He let his head crash onto the sandy ground beneath him.

"For fuck's sake."

And his eyes were watering up from the heat as well.

Great.

Jaunes ears suddenly twitched as he heard a scuttling sound. Like the sound a spider would make when walking on crunchy leaves, where was it coming from?

The right, he got up and spun in that direction despite his protesting body, only to find himself facing a Deathstalker that had somehow snuck up on him. It's ten eyes looking at him menacingly.

His face only reached the upper part of its legs that's how huge it was.

"Hey, no matter how you look at it, isn't this too unlucky."

The thing opened its mouth revealing rows upon rows of sharp serrated teeth.

That was the point where his body decided it had enough and shut down.

* * *

 **Authors note: Well, Jaune just escaped the dungeon, not that the situation he found himself in after exiting was particularly better.**

 **Last time I said I would release this chapter after three weeks, now some of you who are capable if basic mathematics might be wondering, but bor902 it's only been two weeks. Well to that I have to say, I enjoyed the feeling the reviews and the rising follow/favourite count gave me so I wrote a bit more one weekend.**

 **As always, if you notice anything I can improve on as a writer PM me or review, I won't go back and edit the chapters that were already released but I will definitely be more careful about the issues raised while writing in the future.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Editors: ShadowWhat, Talon Searunner, 5th dimension**

 **Chapter 6**

* * *

Jaune didn't know what woke him up: the crackling fire, the smell of meat being grilled, his stomach wound throbbing, his feet being unused to the steel greaves, or the Deathstalker he was leaning against shifting noticeably.

Probably the Deathstalker. Yeah, definitely.

He tried not to show that he was awake, slowly and subtly opening his eyes to take in his surroundings. Damn it, he was still in the desert, which meant yesterday hadn't been a bad dream.

That meant he was in Vacuo.

"You know, the Deathstalker is tamed. It won't attack even if you start moving." The voice sounded bored, the age indiscernible.

Jaune tried to speak, but no matter how hard he tried, his mouth only ended up opening and closing like a fish on land. Heh, fish.

"You want some water?" Water sounded nice, but he couldn't quite bring his head to nod. The stranger, however, seemed to be able to read his answer from his face. Or he was reading Jaune's mind, you never know.

The voice stepped into his field of vision, giving the mage a clear view of his saviour. Young was the first thing that popped into his head, the second being that this guy, Jain, was not a tamer, because Jain was a swordsman.

Begging the question of how exactly a swordsman had tamed a Deathstalker of all creatures. A swordsman who looked to be in his late teens at that.

All those thoughts flew from his head as Jain put the bottle to Jaune's mouth and tipped it back, bringing a steady flow of liquid into his dehydrated body. When he was done, Jain sat back and started unbuckling something along Jaune's body, making him finally notice that he had been bound. He threw a questioning gaze at the man.

"Your body is in pretty bad condition. I didn't want you to thrash around in your sleep and hurt yourself." How considerate. It probably had nothing to do with the fact Jaune was still covered in dried blood that, despite his short swim in the lake, hadn't managed to come off. Or the well-worn sword attached to his waist that had obviously seen a lot of use.

Breathing through his mouth, Jaune decided that he could try to speak now. "Deathstalker, how?" His voice sounded raspy and unused, like the voice of a hermit who smoked a bit too much tobacco.

Jain raised an eyebrow. "You mean how I tamed it?" A weak nod. "Well, normally, Grimm are unable to be tamed. They have an overpowering instinct to kill and really hate humanity. Ancient Grimm, however, are different. They have some rudimentary intelligence, making it possible to trigger their survival instinct."

If Jaune had been drinking anything at the moment he would have spat it out. That answer didn't clarify anything! It was like someone asking if it was raining and another person answering that rain is water vapour that condenses in the atmosphere before falling to the ground in droplets.

But going from the non-answer, the swordsman was implying that he had triggered the survival instinct of the Deathstalker somehow, which also revealed that he was smart enough to not show just anyone his cards. Well, he could just be paranoid, but in the world they lived in, it was probably a well-founded paranoia.

Of course, this revealed that this man in some way, shape, or form, had managed to reach at least A rank before he reached his second decade of life. Which was, in all honesty, absolutely broken. Who did that? More importantly, could Jaune do it too? Maybe if he stayed close to the man, he would find out.

If that really is what happened, of course.

Not letting any of his intentions or thoughts show on his face, he simply commented on how amazing that was and tried to think of questions he should ask.

"Where are we?"

"You don't know?"

Jaune wanted to tell him off. If he knew where, then why would he have asked? But he steeled himself and simply shook his head.

"Well, my young patient, you are currently in the desert of tranquillity, the most northern part of Vacuo. Incidentally, it's the closest part of this dreary desert country to the Final Continent."

"The Final Continent." His voice broke, which was understandable if you considered what the Final Continent represented. Namely death, destruction and a countless amount of dungeons that had been given millennia to gather power and become gates leading to true monstrosities.

"Sadly, I will have to delay my journey there to bring you to the nearest town. Truly unfortunate." He said it with such a straight face that Jaune almost believed him.

"Haha nice joke, heading to the Final Continent, you almost had me, haha." Jaune was as close to getting a heart attack as he ever had been. Jain's face wasn't changing though. Could he possibly not be joking?

Jain sighed and then grinned. "You're right, I'm not serious. I'm actually in this area because I've been searching for a specific ruin, one that is rumoured to be in the area. It should help with my class advancement quite a lot, considering it's called Sword God's Pyramid." A light bulb lit itself above Jaune's head.

Yes! If he remembered correctly, swordsmen, like all classes, had ways to gain levels other than killing things. Namely, by winning duels (with swords) and studying swordsmanship in general. And a ruin with Sword God in its name was definitely something inhabited by a dungeon containing sword-wielding monsters, or at least some murals or ancient texts.

"I've had some trouble finding it though." Jain said with a sad face. "I've been able to narrow it down to a small area, but I just can't seem to find a pyramid."

This was Jaune's chance to repay his life debt towards Jain, but did he want to reveal his ability to sense dimensions? Not yet, first he would need to learn what kind of a person Jain was, while being escorted to the nearest town.

-/-

"No."

Jain rolled his eyes at Jaune's blunt refusal. "C'mon, it doesn't bite." Jain frowned. "I think?"

Jaune was pretty sure if his health hadn't been so poor, he would have had the energy to be outraged. "I will not put my hands anywhere near the mouth of a Deathstalker." A pout blossomed on the swordsman's face. It would have been cute if he hadn't been a nineteen-year-old man who looked like he killed people for a living. If you considered bandits people, that is.

"Okay, be that way. I just thought you would be less afraid if you actually fed it for once… chicken."

A tick mark formed on the mage's head. "I don't think refusing to put yourself anywhere near the mouth of a Deathstalker is being chicken. I think it has more to do with being sane." He turned to the Grimm and shuddered at its protruding mandibles.

"I mean, look at the thing. It looks like it could bite off my arm by accident. Isn't it enough that I'm already riding on it?" Jaune wasn't sure, but the thing looked hurt by his words… somehow. Grimm didn't have emotions, except hatred. And even if they did, they would have no way to convey such feelings. "Wait, do Grimm even need to eat? I've never seen one actually do it."

The swordsman put his tanned hand beneath his chin in a mock thinking position, jostling his shoulder-length brown hair. "You know, I have no idea, but he seems to like it, so I just give it food. That doesn't matter though, we're close to Sanshu now. By the way, you never did tell me, where do you come from?"

Jaune grunted and wondered if he should answer that question."Small village in Vale."

Jain's eyebrow twitched. "And how come you're here, then?"

Jaune hesitated for a bit, then told him everything. The dungeon he'd found, his contemplation about whether he should enter it, the Ursa, and the teleportation arrays within. Through his unbelievable tale, Jain just nodded along, and when Jaune was finished, stayed silent for a while.

"Well, no doubt about it. You're pretty unlucky."

"Oy, that's a completely useless observation. I already knew I was unlucky." Jaune didn't receive an answer. His companion was staring into the distance.

"Here's a not so useless observation. I see Sanshu."

"That's nice. How's that important though? You already said yesterday that we were close."

Jain game him a look that seemed to say, 'Are you stupid?' "It's important because we're going to have to leave the Deathstalker here and walk the rest of the way. The only reason we haven't found any travellers to scare the shit out of is because Sanshu in itself is a bit of a final frontier."

"That makes sense."

Jain suddenly seemed concerned. "Will you be able to walk alone?"

He didn't know. His body felt mostly fine, if a bit stiff. Curiously, he pulled up the shirt Jain had given him to look at his stomach wound.

A bit tender, but the scar was already forming. He poked at it if only to feel slight pain. Was this his regeneration at work? "Should be fine."

Jain still looked skeptical. "If you say so." Then he hopped down from the Deathstalker. After a few seconds, Jaune did the same.

As they watched the arachnoid run back into the desert, Jaune couldn't help but wonder. "Oy, isn't it a bit irresponsible letting a Deathstalker back into the wild? It's a Grimm, it's going to be surrounded by death at some point."

A wistful look entered the swordsman's eyes. "Yeah, I hope he'll be okay." Then he promptly turned around and started heading towards the town.

"Not what I meant," Jaune couldn't help but mutter to himself as he trudged after him.

As they neared the town, guards came into sight. "The young hero returns! Has he conquered the ancient Sword Gods Pyramid?" one guard asked out of the blue, in slightly too loud of a voice.

The other one couldn't seem to hold in his snicker. "Sure doesn't seem so, but he seems to have found a trusty companion who will help him. Sadly the companion seems to be a brat, not even old enough to be weaned of his mother's teat."

Jaune bristled and was going to start railing at the plebeians who had just insulted him and the man he had grown to like and respect over the last few days. As if sensing what he was about to do, Jain just laid a hand on his shoulder and led him forwards somewhat forcefully. It was awkward because Jaune was several feet shorter than him, but Jain managed.

They ignored the guards, and they seemed content to let them pass without any inspection.

As they entered the city (though it was honestly more of a town), he turned to the now-silent swordsman, ignoring the variety of new sights and smells that assaulted him. "Why did you let them disrespect you like that? I know for sure that you're strong. They insulted you, you had every right to cave their faces in!"

Jain looked at him weirdly. "Do you really think that would have solved anything?"

Jaune shook his head. "No, but you would have defended your honour, and no plebeian would have ever dared to disrespect you like that again."

"Is that how things work in Vale? Well, this isn't Vale, kid. There are no differences in class. The only one who has any right to defend his honour is the Sun Emperor." Jaune felt as if he'd been slapped, as he hadn't been referred to as a kid in a long time.

"Whatever, cultural difference I guess. Let's go find an inn. I didn't talk much about your situation in the past few days, because I can't really think if I haven't had a warm meal." Jain walked forth as if it was only natural for Jaune to follow, which he did.

-/-

"So, what do you want to do?"

The mage averted his eyes from the man sitting opposite of him and stared at the wooden table they were sitting at as if it held all the secrets to the universe. "I want to go home, I guess."

Jain raised an eyebrow at that. "You guess?"

"Well, I know some people who are probably worried about me." He thought of Emmon, Ray and his Mum. "But the dungeon showed me how weak I really was. If I come back the way I am, won't it just happen again?" Jaune asked and shrugged his shoulders, earning another raised eyebrow.

"I think you overestimate the chances of you finding another dungeon, and the chances of basically falling into one again."

"I guess you're right, but I want to get stronger." Jaune knew where his desire was coming from, and he also knew it was silly to delay his homecoming just because he felt weak in that dungeon. But, did he really have a choice? He needed to grow strong. It wasn't like his class was that obscure; there were book entries about it.

And there was a one-hundred percent guarantee that someone knew about the capabilities of a dimensional mage, and the opportunity to have what basically amounted to a dungeon detector under your control was too much to pass up for any organisation that had any sort of ambition. He didn't have much trust in people. His family was made up of knights that practically breathed honour. Even if it was twisted, and they still did evil things if they could justify it. People who didn't have such a personal code of conduct? No chanc-

"Why not do both then?"

Jaune looked up with a questioning expression. "What do you mean?"

"Do you know what an adventurer is?" The mage rolled his eyes. He was young, not uneducated. An adventurer was someone of the hero class that registered himself at the adventurers guild. They received quests that were issued to the guild by NPCs who sought either protection from, or extermination of, Grimm.

The adventurers guild was also an institution that sought out dungeons, forming giant parties to loot them, and they would be very happy to 'acquire' him.

"I know what the adventurers guild is, but I fail to see how they could help me."

Jain grinned smugly at him. "One word: escort missions."

"That was two words."

A tick mark appeared on the swordsman's head. "Whatever. Before your apparent need to gain strength, I was simply planning to give you enough money to join a caravan to a port town, where you could take a ship to Vale, where I'm sure you would find another caravan or somebody from their hero corps to guide you home. I'm sure the journey would take, at most, about three months."

He would do that for him? The amount of money that would need was nothing to sneeze at.

"But what I meant with escort missions was, you could register at an adventurer's guild, do a few quests until you're rank D at least, and then start escorting people into the direction of Vale. Eventually you would reach it, and you would be fighting Grimm along the way as well with other, more experienced guards, so you wouldn't actually be in much danger."

Jaune stared at him dumbstruck, causing the man to puff out his chest and preen like a peacock. "You put a lot of thought into this, I see." He looked down again, at his stew that had gone cold. Damn it. "Thank you."

He didn't see the reaction, but he heard the words."You're pretty grounded for a kid, but don't worry, it's the job of the older generation to protect the new one. For one day, we will be forgotten and the new ones will be the ones protecting and guiding humanity."

"You're seven years older than me."

"I'm old enough to be your father."

"I don't think you understand biology. You growing senile already?"

"Brat, respect your elders."

-/-

Jaune gave a great sigh as he sunk into the warm tub of water the inn had prepared for him, purposefully ignoring the fact that there was a slave in the same room to cater to anything he needed… a female one. He let his muscles relax for the first time in what felt like an eternity and began scrubbing his body of all the accumulated grime and blood.

Looking down at the water, he noted that it had gone from fresh to not so fresh in about a minute. He turned to the slave, who nearly flinched at his gaze. "I'm going to need another tub."

A relieved expression made its way into her face. "Of course young master, immediately young master."

Jarring. Vacuo, the only place where slavery actually existed, legally at least. He himself was safe from ever meeting that fate. Hero classes couldn't be enslaved. Oh sure, the law was that only criminals and their offspring were bound to slavery, their class actually changing to slave after a while.

But the slaves avoided making offspring simply to spare them a life of servitude, which begged the question of how seemingly every slave he had noticed so far had been fairly young and attractive. All criminals for sure, he thought sarcastically to himself.

After he was done taking his bath, he gazed wistfully at the blonde locks he had lost. They shimmered in his palm, almost a handful; truly, adventuring was the enemy of beauty.

At least regeneration would help with that. It promoted hair growth, something he'd found out after looking at the information given to him about it by the natural order.

A useful Stat, Jaune thought to himself as he entered the room he would share with Jain for the night. It wasn't that late yet, but neither of them had the energy to do anything today. Sleeping in a bed was something they both wanted as early as possible.

He found Jain hunched over some maps strewn about the small table in their room. "What are you looking at?" Did the maps have information about the location of the pyramid?

"These maps. I found them in a dungeon with the journal of someone who had visited the Sword God Pyramid in the past." Jain sighed.

"You know why the guards were making fun of me?" Jaune didn't, but he could guess. Jain simply shook his head, not giving him a chance to answer. "The sword god labyrinth is a myth, a folktale, at least that's what the town people think and tell everyone. I know it exists though. I found a very convincing journal belonging to one of the former sword emperors of Mistral who found the place." His hands were shaking as he spoke.

"I've followed his exact route at least three times already, but I haven't been able to find it. I guess I'll simply be remembered as another failed adventurer who wasted his time running after a myth."

He sounded like he was giving up. "Are you giving up?"

Jain smiled bitterly."At this point, what other choice do I have? I've wasted five months on this, Jaune, five months! Oh, I've been getting stronger; you wouldn't believe some of the Grimm I've encountered out there. But the pyramid itself will forever be out of my reach."

Those words sparked something in Jaune's head. Crystallised a purpose of sorts. He owed the swordsman a life debt, plus he also liked him. Jain was a good person.

"It won't be forever out of your reach." With each moment his determination grew. " I'm going to help you find it."

* * *

 **Got two editors, they both went over this chapter and corrected many mistakes, my dialogue is just, I won't say bad. It's something I haven't really done before.**

 **Also, some of you might have noticed, but this story only gets updated on Saturdays, and yeah, that's the plan. It will always be on Saturdays, between one and three weeks. Never four.**

 **Also I updated my bio, added some information about me, why I'm writing and such, also a bit about the story, if you're emotionally invested in the story just tell me if it needs work.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Editors: ShadowWhat, Talon Searunner, 5th Dimension**

 **Chapter 7**

* * *

Jain froze up. "Really, and how do you plan to do that?" The expression on his face suggested that if Jaune said something stupid, they wouldn't part on the best of terms.

"I assume you don't have any sensing skills?" Jaune asked, to which Jain just shook his head."Well I have one, it lets me comprehend space. I admit, the range isn't big, and at the edges it gets kind of fuzzy, since I haven't had it for long, but it still has an almost fifty meter radius. You saved my life; I at least want to try and repay that debt."

A stern look came his way. "Don't do favours for things that are completely natural. People will think you're a pushover and try to extort you."

The mage grinned. "No worries. If you had been an asshole I would have simply paid you back by giving you something out of my family's treasury." His brows furrowed."It's not guaranteed I'll be able to find it though. I imagine a lot of people have tried over the years, with better sensing skills than mine."

The swordsman looked thoughtful. "I'm ready to try one more time. The route only takes about two months to traverse. But first we're going to have to get you registered at the Adventurer's Guild."

Jaune tilted his head in confusion. "Why?"

His now-compatriot grinned. "Well, finding the Sword God's Pyramid is an A-Rank quest, and completing one of those before graduating from a combat school, or even reaching your second decade of life… Now that would be something to brag about, wouldn't it?"

-/-

As they walked through the city towards the Adventurer's Guild office (a small one, as this was a small city), Jaune took in the sights.

The weirdly dressed people, the stands selling exotic things, and the women. Due to the heat, everyone was running around in threadbare clothing, which was a feast for the eyes of Jaune, who lived in a small village where most people of the female persuasion wore thick clothing. He blushed and quickly looked away whenever one of these women smiled at him, though.

"Do I have a little pervert on my hands, or are you simply admiring their clothing?" Jain asked.

The mage would have answered with something derogatory, if he hadn't just seen something out of the corner of his eye. "Is that a post office?"

Jain looked around and caught sight of the building his companion was looking at. "Yep." Then his face twisted. "God, I didn't even think of bringing you there to send a letter to your family. Being an adult is so hard."

The younger of the pair just shook his head. "Don't worry about it, I didn't think of it either. Can you lend me some money so I can send a letter?" His reply came flying at his face, in the form of a money pouch.

Jain pointed at a run down building. "That's the Adventurer's Guild. Go there when you're done sending the letter." Jaune, not having to be told twice, ran to the post office and entered.

He immediately purchased some parchment from the old, but nice-looking clerk and borrowed the man's pen to tell his family how he was doing. He wrote about what had happened to him, and that he would be home soon. Soon, in this case, being a few years at least.

Afterwards, he went to the Adventurer's Guild to find Jain flirting with the only personnel present, a certain Mina, a scribe that was manning the desk. Was it really manning though if she was a woman? Could it be womaning? Or femaling?

Jain seemed to have been rejected and sulked his way towards one of the tables. After he plopped down and put his head in one of his hands, he saw Jaune and waved him towards the scribe, implying she was the one he had to talk to.

Ignoring some others who jeered at Jain, Jaune walked up to the counter, embarrassed at how shabby he must look. The woman ignored it though, smiling, dropping a few forms in front of him, and taking ten of hi- Jain's Lien.

Everything devolved into a blur. Jaune hadn't thought he would receive a hero identification until he joined Beacon. It was a monumental occasion, signifying a rise into adulthood almost comparable to reaching the age of twelve.

Vale used dog tags, ones with your combat ranking inscribed on them, changing automatically whenever one grew stronger, or weaker. Vacuo, however, seemed to use cards. On his was:

Jaune Arc

Mage

Rank F

Missions completed: 0

...And a drawing of his dishevelled appearance on the upper-left corner.

"Would you like to join that deadbeat swordsman's party?" Broken out of his trance, the young mage started and managed a nod.

"Ok, you are now a part of the party "BLades." You have a right to 5% of the quest rewards as you are a Rank F adventurer partying with a Rank B one. The missions you do together will be added to your mission count. Is there anything else?"

Jaune managed to croak out a no, still staring dazedly at the card in his hand. He soon wandered over to Jain's table, the swordsman looking at him.

"Let's go?"

Jaune could only respond, "Yeah, let's go."

-/-

Jaune stared at his compatriot, who had led him to what looked like a training centre. He could even see some other people clashing swords and spears in the distance. "I thought you said we were gonna go?"

The swordsman sheepishly scratched the back of his head. "Well, that was in the heat of the moment. Getting your adventurer's certification is a pretty special occasion. I was just swept in."

Jaune looked around once more and then focused on the two wooden swords held in Jain's hands. So Jain wanted to test him? Understandable. "So I assume you want to spar to see how much of a burden I will be?" Before he even finished the sentence, a wooden sword almost smacked him in the face, though he managed to spin around and grab it out of the air.

He heard a short chuckle behind him. "Oi, your words are too self-deprecating. It's an evaluation, an evaluation." The crunch of loose sand alerted him to Jain taking a step forward, which could only be for one reason.

Jaune threw himself into a roll, and judging by the sound that passed by his ear, he only barely dodged a slash. He blindly fired an arcane bolt behind at where Jain should be, completed his roll, and stood up, only to see Jain standing before him, knees bent and sword in one hand pointed at Jaune's head.

A standard stance, one that Jaune assumed as well once he saw no other attack was coming, only his was slightly different. Knees bent a bit more, sacrificing speed and manoeuvrability for a steadfast grounding. His sword in a guard position in one hand, his other facing out towards Jain, ready to release an arcane bolt.

What explosive speed… Any physical class would obviously have an agility stat higher than his. With a standard stance, fighting someone with obviously higher physical stats was practically pointless.

This stance was something his mother had helped him with. It was a purely defensive one, one that needed the enemy to make a mistake to counterattack. Sure, in a party formation he would never use it; he was still a mage after all. Even if he could use a sword, staying back and providing support while occasionally one shotting weaker enemies were the strategies mages lived by. Well, about half of them.

But this was a 1v1, and Jaune refused to get his gobber smashed, so he went into übertryhard mode and played defensively.

Jain suddenly tapped his foot onto the ground lightly, before readying a stab. This was a swordsman's skill, lunge, one of the most basic ones.

Swordsmen were a class that mostly invested in agility and dexterity, relying on the cutting power of their skills and weapons to truly decimate someone, so it was very unlikely Jaune would be able to dodge any of the swordsman's skills.

So, he did the only thing he could think of. He switched from a guarding stance to one where his sword was facing forward, towards Jain. If he had tried to dodge, he definitely would not have managed it in time, but changing positions was fine.

As expected Jain halted his lunge a few feet away from Jaune, but what he did not expect was for an arcane bolt to come blazing towards his torso, his centre of his gravity. Jain sidestepped to the left, but before he even finished the motion, another arcane bolt was already streaking towards his new position.

From a right-handed swordsman's position, it only made sense to sidestep to the left if you were standing before an enemy. If you stepped to the right, your left side would be ridiculously undefended.

It was a textbook-perfect dodge, which meant it was predictable. If one looked closely enough, one could see a Jain's eyes widen slightly. And if one could read his mind they would find the thoughts, ' _A hero since a few months ago' your mother, you fight like an arena veteran!_ floating through his head.

Just as first blood seemed like it would go to Jaune, his opponent slid downwards, letting the arcane bolt pass over his head.

It all happened in a second. Their swords clashed, Jain's sword moving in a perfect circle around Jaune's, and with a flick upwards, disarmed him. Some beautiful footwork brought him next to the now-retreating mage, only now they were facing different directions.

The swordsman's foot slightly tapped the back of Jaune's knee, while the back of his hand tapped his chest, making him sprawl forward. Another series of fast steps and Jain was behind the mage with his sword positioned beneath Jaune's neck.

Jaune sighed. "I forfeit." Jain removed his sword and helped him to his feet, a contemplative look on his face. "Well, the good news is, you definitely won't be a burden to me while we traverse the desert. Your skills are top notch, and only your stats and skill repertoire are lacking." Jaune couldn't help but puff out his chest at the praise, but he stopped immediately. If there was good news… "And the bad news?"

Jain put his hand under his chin in a faux thinking position. "Well, your swordsmanship is absolute garbage, you only have the basics of the basics, it actually hurts to watch from a professional standpoint." Almost as an immediate reversal.

"Well, thankfully I have a swordsman right here who will surely help me become better at it."

A grin that made Jaune break out into a cold sweat spread across the other man's face.

"I'm so glad you volunteered."

-/-

A few hours later, two people walked out of the training grounds. One looking refreshed, walking with his hands behind his back and whistling a catchy tune. The other, shorter one, was not really walking, but staggering and occasionally spitting out sand. Jaune looked at the cheery swordsman out of the corner of his eye. "So is there anything else to do before we set out?"

The person who had made him eat sand for the last few hours thought for a bit. "Well, we need to get you some equipment and I need to have you take a look at the journal of the adventurer and the map that I'm basing this journey on."

Jaune looked down at himself, dressed in shabby too-big clothes, a rusty sword at his side. It was in great contrast to the greaves he was wearing despite the heat. "You're probably right, but I still feel indebted about the money and effort you spent on me up to this point. I was raised to dismiss charity."

Jain gave him a pitying look. "Do you know how much Lien an above average adventurer makes?" Jaune shook his head. "Well suffice to say, I could outfit a thousand of you, have enough money left to buy a house in the most expensive street of this town, burn it down, buy a bigger one, not live there and live in the most expensive inn here for the rest of my life."

Jaune almost vomited blood. This town wasn't really big, so it wasn't that expensive, but still… it made sense. Back home the only person really earning any money that they actually spent on the family was mum. She spent most of her time training her children, only occasionally going out to hunt some Grimm for a few days, and yet she still made enough to feed a family of eight and keep their manor in good shape.

Jaune sighed and accepted the fact that Jain was going to spend some more Lien on him. Maybe to him it wasn't a significant amount, but to Jaune, it only raised his debt. He would definitely have to find the pyramid.

"Aaand we're here." Without even knowing how they had arrived, Jaune suddenly found himself standing before an adventurer's shop.

Jain swaggered into the gigantic building and Jaune followed. When he entered he couldn't help but gape at the many items on sale. Clothing, camping supplies, weapons, armour and so much more. Afraid he would actually get lost in the store, he scurried behind the swordsman who was already walking towards the chainmails and other assortments of light armour. "Ah, Jain, I'm a mage."

"Yeah, so what?"

Jaune stared at him like one would stare at a retarded llama. "I can't wear metal."

Jain looked at the greaves the mage was wearing. "So, those?"

"Yeah, they're an artefact."

Jain shrugged and changed his course towards the leather equipment. He looked through what appeared to be hundreds of pants with slight variations stacked on top of another and picked out a few pairs of light grey ones with leather padding. "Pants." He went over to the breezy shirts made for the weather and tossed another few into Jaune's arms. "Shirts." Lastly he went over to the leather vests and handed one to him. "Vest. Do you need anything else?"

Jaune thought about it for a few seconds. The way this equipment looked, he would be going around with his arms open to the sun. Something that his vitality would deal with perfectly fine, but he did wield a sword, and having his arms bared was a bit... But he was also a mage, so if anyone actually sought close combat with him, they would definitely have the strength to cleave through any arm protection he could wear.

"Well, I need a detachable hood and a sword and scabbard I guess."

Jain nodded and pointed at a corner that seemed to have hoods and cloaks stacked onto each other. "Don't worry about the sword and scabbard, I'll just lend you some that I used to use before I found better ones. They are also artefacts even if small ones, so they are still better than anything you can find here."

Jaune sighed, but didn't argue. The swordsman seemed set on his benevolence. He entered one of the changing rooms and switched out his outfit, turning from what looked like a bandit to a respectable young hero. A hero belonging to the rogue class that is. The greaves, slightly 'thorny' at the sole to make it easier to scale trees, grey leather pants that enabled one to blend in with the surroundings when it was dark, and a sleeveless vest with an attached hood, concealing his face.

In the mirror, Jaune saw his name and class blink out of existence. The effect of hoods was weird like that. It didn't even need to be a magical hood. Any hood would hide the class and name of the individual wearing it. It did look kind of cool though. He knew that as an actual legitimate adventurer he shouldn't be concerned with such things, but he was and that's that.

He came out of the changing room and immediately received a wolf whistle that made him turn red in embarrassment. "Looking hot there Jaune, you trying to break some hearts?"

Even through his red face, he retorted, "More like steal some hearts. I look like a rogue."

Jain waved his concern away. "That's a good thing. If we encounter a PvP situation they won't expect you to smack them down with a magic bolt."

The mage sighed. "I guess you're right."

Jain turned around and walked towards the exit, then turned his head and said, "Come on now, I already paid. Time for you to look at some documents and get a sword."

"Sigh."

-/-

Back in their room at the inn, Jaune was reverently staring at the items in his hands. These artefacts were so much better when compared to his greaves. Those things only had the ability to turn matte, making them not reflect light; and the removed durability option, which meant he would never need to repair them.

But this scabbard was something else.

 **Scabbard of the Youngster**

 **A blade kept within will always stay sharp, and on the first draw the cutting power will be greatly increased.**

Amazing. This item would be supremely useful. He looked at the scabbard at Jain's side. _He said he switched them out so that one must be even better._

The sword wasn't bad either. It had a slight increase in cutting power and also had the ability of self-repair.

Suddenly, a loud sound erupted behind him, like a giant book landing on a desk. Jaune twitched and turned around.

The sound had in fact been a giant book landing on a desk. The one who put it there, of course, was Jain. Atop it was a map and another small journal. Probably the map to the pyramid. "Well, the book is basically an adventurer's guide to this province, the journal is the one from that adventurer, and the map is the thing I made according to the journal. Since I haven't found the pyramid yet it's probably not entirely correct, but you can use it for reference." Jain looked at the book and how huge it was. "Will four days be enough?"

The words only made Jaune grin. "You underestimate my power."

To be honest, Jain probably had a higher intelligence stat than Jaune, which made his memorization better. But Jaune was a mage and Jain was a swordsman, and they couldn't escape their stereotypes. Jain practised swordsmanship a lot, probably more than he normally would, simply because that's what all other swordsmen did.

Jaune researched and read because everyone had the opinion that that was what mages did. It was a subconscious influence that changed a person without them knowing it.

Research and reading capacity didn't only have to do with intelligence or wisdom. It also had to do with experience.

And in this case, the mage had much more experience than the swordsman. It was unavoidable, unfair, yet also beautiful. Two heads were better than one. It was teamwork, the thing that had kept humanity alive against creatures several times more powerful and savage than them.

Time passed, and the map was getting more filled, with small notations in a different colour and not so small deviations to the path appearing with bright red question marks next to them. The book was read, the map upgraded, and the journal comprehended.

"Done."

The swordsman, who had been lounging on the bed, perked up and looked at the sand clock standing on the table. "Wow, you really are fast. I have an older mage friend who isn't as fast." A doubtful look appeared on his face. "Well, the question is the quality too, not just the speed. Are you confident you don't need more time?"

A hateful glare from eyes with dark rings shut him up fairly quickly. The dark rings were very prominent, a testament to the willpower to work nine hours in one sitting. "Don't doubt my genius. Shut up and get me something to eat," Jaune said with a glower that really didn't fit his youthful face.

As if backing away from a dangerous animal, Jain slowly retreated, hands raised. He then walked down the stairs, where there was still some stew hanging over the fire, just in case guests got hungry at night.

When he came back into the room, it was to find Jaune already fast asleep on one of the beds.

Jain looked down at the stew in his hands.

Then he ate it.

-/-

Jaune trudged through the sands, trying to ignore the stinging heat of the midday sun as it burned down at him like a baleful eye of heat. "Fucking desert, fucking sun, fucking armour." A constant stream of complaints poured out of his mouth as if it were a particularly foul waterfall.

Jain, for once looking annoyed, turned his head in his direction. "Will you shut the hell up? We've been walking for five minutes."

The mage stared at him blankly, for once looking away from the map in his hands. Five minutes? It seemed more like a few hours. He looked back towards Sanshu.

The distance was about 500 meters.

"Fuck."

"Honestly how did you get such a foul mouth, is everyone in Vale like this?"

At Jain's enquirement, he could only scratch his head. "You know, it actually only started when I became twelve and started encountering really shitty situations. Cursing is just so _freeing_."

With a sigh, Jain couldn't help but agree. An adventurer's life wasn't easy. "Well, everyone has a vice. At least you haven't turned to alcohol, whores, or drugs like some others do. Cursing is pretty safe and mild in comparison."

"Then on this we agree. Cursing only requires you to move your mouth and gives you immediate satisfaction, while the other vices that you just named all require extravagant amounts of Lien to propagate and shift the priorities of an adventurer away from improving oneself and towards less fruitful activities." Having said something truly profound Jaune looked his companion in the eye, seeking to soak up the awe that his eloquence would inspire. He only found a blank stare on the tanned man.

"Hey, can you talk like a normal person? The dichotomy is far too much for me. A twelve-year-old spouting vocabulary way above his level? Weird." A tick mark grew on Jaune's head, and he began to vehemently reply.

But what was done, was done.

The conversation, no matter how heated, had started. Two people could be seen trudging across the desert, sometimes laughing, sometimes shouting. No matter which, they forgot about the heat, the sand, or anything except for each other.

* * *

 **Another chapter filled with my most worthy foe, human interaction. At least they left the city now, where the only person they can talk to is each other, no homo. To be honest, just that one paragraph with the scribe in the adventurers guild almost made me lose what little will to live I had after the school year I've had. My feeling towards it are sadly obvious in the quality of that part, but if I had spent any more time trying to make it better I would have skipped the first three stages and just fallen over dead of stage four rectal cancer.**

 **Many thanks to Greatazuredragon for reminding me that yes, there should be line breaks in the story. I personally didn't like the horizontal line that Fanfiction or open office offers so I added in the -/-, which isn't as flow-disrupting as a giant slash across the entire page. At least I hope that is. I would appreciate more helpful reviews, don't feel shy.**

 **I'm slowly getting the feeling that I'm becoming like a Youtuber adding a "Please like and Subscribe" after every video, but that's life. At least I'm not the Fanfiction equivalent of a react channel.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Editors: ShadowWhat, Talon Searunner**

 **Chapter 8**

* * *

A gigantic canyon spanned out before them as they halted,. This was the first landmark, signalizing that they were approximately half a day's walk from Sanshu.

"Let's set camp here and go on tomorrow." Jaune simply nodded in agreement, throat too dry from the climate to coherently answer.

From this point on, it was all on him. He let his dimensional comprehension sweep across the endless sands beneath his feet finding no earth and towards the open skies finding no end.

Not that his range was exactly large, the skill itself was not able to rank up, but that didn't mean he couldn't improve it. With experience, one could understand more contained in one's area of sense at once and with that the range also expanded. It wasn't a skill you could really use in combat due to it taking just slightly too much concentration.

But for rituals concerning spatial magic and scouting, it was perfect. Of course, you would still subconsciously use it in combat, sometimes inspiring bursts of instinctive combat prowess.

But it wasn't consistent, which made it worthless when calculating ones own combat potential

Aside from the obvious uses this skill was what would help him repay a debt and help someone he at this point counted as a friend.

Finding the pyramid, was now his task.

-/-

On the next day when Jain started walking towards the canyon Jaune halted him.

"Let's not go through there, a pyramid wouldn't fit inside of it, and it's unlikely that it would be so close to the town, so let's not waste our time." The swordsman shrugged and gestured to the left and to the right, a questioning look on his face.

"We will be walking towards our destination on the left side of the road highlighted on the map, and when going back we will also go on the left side."

"Wait, what?" A confused look appeared on the swordsman's face causing Jaune to grin.

"Think about it for a moment."

After a few minutes of trudging uphill towards the left side of the canyon he opened his mouth, "Oh, I get it." causing Jaune to snicker.

The walking itself was, annoying, to say the least. The concentration needed to sense everything for any oddities made him stumble often, which then caused sand to get everywhere.

Jaune turned his head to the side and spit some sand out of his mouth, only for it to be picked up by the strong wind and fly back into the direction of his face. Thankfully he managed to duck his head.

"This is ridiculous, how do people live here?"

Suddenly he noted something out of the corner of his eyes.

A billowing cloud of sand coming in their direction.

He turned to Jain who was quietly walking beside him, immersed in his own thoughts, probably thinking about swords.

"Hey, is that what I think it is?", with a huh, the swordsman perked up and looked in the direction Jaune was pointing.

"Yeah, it's a sandstorm." Then he just walked on.

"Isn't it like you know, dangerous." Jain shrugged at the question, „It is if you're an NCP, for a hero it's pretty harmless we just sit down and wait it out, since going forward in a sandstorm only makes one lose direction."

"Guess being a hero has its advantages, anything special we need to set up?", Jain rummaged a bit through his bag and pulled out two masks, see through lenses on the eyes and a small opening at the neck.

The things looked ugly as hell.

"The hole at the neck region is to let the air in without the sand coming in as well, just plop down and put it on," at Jaune's dubious look he tried to calm him,"don't worry it's washed."

The mage sighed, it wasn't the hygiene that bothered him, but rather the fact that if anyone ever saw him wear that thing he would become a laughing stock.

"Whatever."

Muttering he plopped himself down on the sand below, put on the mask and held hands with Jain.

Wait, what was that last part?

"Jain, why are we holding hands," Jaune already suspected why but, c'mon," It's so we don't lose each other if one of us gets blown slightly out of position, don't worry, the ancestors of the desert have passed down a method to make this less uncomfortable."

"Oh really, and what is that method." You could almost hear the sarcasm. No, scratch that; you could hear it clearly, but you could almost see it.

"No homo."

As the winds tackled him like a particularly fat Ursa, making him glad he had someone's hand to hold Jaune was only sure of one thing.

This was going to be a long day.

-/-

In the first hour, Jaune practised his dimensional comprehension, loosening the information flow to gain more range and tightening it to feel everything around himself in a 3-feet radius.

He stopped soon enough since literally, everything he was surrounded by was sand, sand and some more sand.

Practising something once you were well and truly sick of it wasn't very productive so he started training his arcane bolt.

Forming the weakest he possibly could he could fire about 23.

So he did just that, every bolt was held within his grasp for minutes, him researching every movement and looking at every energy dilation very closely.

Of course not really looking, since even if the mask they both wore had eyeholes, the sand everywhere still kind of put a halt to actually seeing anything.

He felt with his skill and found something intruiging.

Arcane bolts did not have mass, they were mana constructs made by a spell matrix given to him when he was born.

So imagine his surprise when he noticed that these arcane bolts had a certain mass.

Concentrating fully he tried to discern what was happening. It was the sand. The sand was whizzing through his bolts as they hung in the air for him to inspect, all sand particles flew through, no, most did.

But a select few stayed stuck in the very weak gravitational field that mana naturally produced. He didn't know what phenomenon he was observing, only a scholar who spent years researching arcane mana properties, magnetic fields and atomic composition could.

Two of these fields of study didn't even exist.

But Jaune wasn't stupid, nor did one need several PhD's to see what was happening.

The mage dispelled his magic and summoned another one. Watching closely he noted how the first sand corn got stuck in the bolt. It jumped around a bit inside as if trying to escape but stabilized right in the middle.

After that, any sand particles that flew through the bolt weren't even the least bit attracted, but once they hit the sand in the middle, they stopped all movement and clumped together, a chain reaction of the sand core getting bigger and thus attracting more sand and thus growing bigger again started.

"Jaune, Jaune!" He was so sunk into his experiment he hadn't noticed Jain calling him, and the fact that he couldn't hear anything in the sandstorm.

Go away stupid hallucination, I'm experimenting!

A cuff on the head made sure he knew his friend wasn't a hallucination, thankfully it didn't disrupt his concentration enough to make him diffuse the bolt.

Jaune pulled off the mask and finally breathed in actual air, even if it was disquietingly hot air, in God knew how many hours.

For the first time Jaune looked at what he had created, something Jain was looking at as well.

"What is that?" A well-grounded question, in the air hovering right before the mage, was a ball of tightly compacted sand that flashed with violet arcane energy and occasional bright green sparks.

"A result of my arcane bolt interacting, or more like fusing with the sand." Jain shrugged making the mages eyebrow tick, of course, the swordsman wouldn't appreciate what weird sort of phenomenon this was.

"So is it useful, or just weird? "A valid question.

Looking around Jaune found some beaten down cacti, the only available vegetation in the desert if one discounted the green found in oases and some brown bushes.

The ball flew at the thing, at about half the usual speed, still pretty fast, but when it hit it, all hell broke loose.

Or at least, that was what he he would have liked to say, but honestly the sand just kind, of, crumbled upon impact and fell to the ground while the arcane bolt weakly exploded turning the sand into a small cloud, akin to a fart, before that too dispersed.

"Well, that was underwhelming, I know a mage can also gain Exp by experimenting and reading, but the Exp is really, almost as bad as if I had read a book."

Jain looked at him strangely.

"Don't get discouraged so easily, this experiment just proved that you can transport substances with your arcane bolt, what if next time you make a small cloud of poison gas, or sharp metal dust and launch it into someone's face. "Jaune's shuddered at the brutality of the suggestion.

Was this what being an adventurer was like? But he had to agree, the might of an adventurer was almost equivalent to his killing potential.

Be it against Grimm, dungeon monsters, or other humans.

Talking about Grimm, out of the corner of his eye, he saw some black spots approaching from the distance.

"You're absolutely right, if I could do that my combat potential would rise by quite a bit, I will work on it, but not now, we seem to have some company approaching." The swordsman's eyes narrowed, and he looked towards the black spots that were growing larger as they neared.

He drew his sword, but visibly relaxed once he was able to discern what the Grimm was.

"It's just some creeps, they usually run after sandstorms to pick off any weakened travellers and eat the corpses of the unfortunate." A sigh escaped his mouth.

"But the only ones who do that are led by an alpha, not threatening, but still risky. Be prepared to give a fighting retreat and support me with spells."

Jaune didn't argue and walked to stand a few feet behind the swordsman, he knew what he was doing, Jaune could be considered semi experienced at hunting Beowulf in the forests of Vale, but here he would just follow Jain's lead.

When he saw how fast the Grimm were approaching his knees trembled a little.

"Hey, aren't they, like, way too fast. "Jain nodded."Yes, creeps, despite only having two hind legs, are some of the fastest land bound Grimm in existence." At this moment he turned to Jaune and smiled at him charmingly. "Don't worry, I can already defeat a bigger pack than this on my own, just stay back and try not to draw too much attention to yourself."

The; 'I won't be able to protect you otherwise' went unsaid.

Jaune started spawning numerous arcane bolts as carefully as possible, if you did it slowly with more concentration they would be slightly more powerful, maybe some would term the difference negligible.

But every bit counted.

There was a reason the famous quote, 'Fear the wrath of a calm man', was changed to 'Fear the wrath of a calm man and the prepared wizard.' After the slaughter that occurred at the gates of the magic academy, upon the advent of the war.

Wizard, in this case, being unisex, it just sounded better than if you said, fear the calm man's wrath and the prepared magic user.

But now that he thought about it, was a calm man's wrath that horrifying, he is calm, therefore he probably doesn't get into many fights and therefore doesn't have much combat experience. Shouldn't you be more afraid of the angry man's wrath since that type of guy had probably experienced numerous braw-.

His train of thought was rudely interrupted by an explosive swish sound, like the sound of a sword cutting through the air but multiplied by ten.

Looking at the source Jaune barely witnessed a gale of wind flying forth from Jain's sword horizontally. Well even if all the heroes who had such attacks in books used it vertically, that was actually pretty stupid, vertically it would only decimate maybe one tenth of an attacking horde. You would still get swarmed.

Horizontally, however, it would hit almost every front liner as long as the attack range was big enough, looking carefully at the sword projection Jaune determined that yes, it was big enough!

After the attack collided with the Grimm in the front of the charge a massive sand explosion bloomed, the result of the sand that had been stirred in the wake of the powerful slash finally ending its flight and colliding with bodies, resulting in a plume that must have been several dozen feet tall.

Before the sand even settled, an absolutely massive Grimm jumped out from the cloud heading straight for Jaune's brown haired companion, who appeared to be breathing a bit heavily.

Attacking horizontally had an even bigger advantage. The alpha Creep had been on the frontline, but because of its heavy plating and vitality, it had remained mostly uninjured, the same could not be said for its comrades who were already dissolving into black smoke.

Even the Grimm behind them had been knocked backwards slightly and were shaking their heads to recover.

This meant Jain now had about five seconds to 1v1, or 1v2 with Jaune's assistance, the alpha.

In that moment, the alpha Grimm was still flying through the air. Jain held up his sword majestically, as if to receive his opponent upon it Jaune couldn't help but think.

'Jain, you real-, you really aren't as stupid as you look.' And then he promptly sent a few arcane bolts towards the descending alpha Creep, since it only had hind legs and was in the air, it was completely unable to dodge the bolts which pelted its body.

The magic attack didn't do much damage, but the concussive force was enough to slightly swerve the Grimm in the air so it would land on the ground slightly to the swordsman's right and not directly on him.

Jain used this to simply take a diagonal step towards the left letting the Grimm completely bypass him, although not without holding out his sword and cutting up its stomach .

One second.

The Creep tumbled a bit on the ground after landing, two hind legs not really giving the best options for aerial combat it seemed, Jain already approaching from behind.

An arcane bolt nailed the thing directly in the eye, causing it to roar and turn towards the mage sending all these pesky attacks at it. Jain used this moment to leap into the air, sword thrusting downwards directly towards its head.

Two seconds.

The alpha tensed its legs as if to once again charge, this time however his target was a much squishier one.

Jain landed on its back, stabbing the sword directly through its neck and nailing it to the ground.

Three seconds.

A roar resounded, black liquid spurting from the wound and from its mouth, sullying the ground and it's killer.

A jerk went through Jain's arms as he spastically pulled the sword in different directions, making the wound even worse. Then he tensed his legs, braced his feet against the body of the dying Creep, and made as if to pull out his sword.

Four seconds.

Like a acrobat, the swordsman jumped from the back of the now dissolving alpha, ripping out his sword in the same motion. Doing a backflip, he landed a few feet in front of Jaune, causing the mage to also retreat.

Five seconds.

The Creeps that had been recovering from the sword slash had reached Jain and swarmed him, causing the swordsman's face to contort into a grin and for his body to spin in a whirlwind of steel, his sword changing altitudes as it spun round with its owner.

When the spin was done nine severed heads made a thumping sound, as they fell on the ground and started to disperse into black smoke.

As if it was a signal, the swordsman charged directly into the Grimm horde, set to decimate them until their numbers reached zero.

-/-

"Ouch, god-damn these things are hot." Jaune cursed, but despite the pain he put the coin he had picked up from the ground into his coin pouch. The little blister would be healed completely in a few hours by his regeneration anyway. It still hurt, and he once again cursed the sun for existing and the metal for being so heat absorbent.

"I don't know why you insist on picking up all the coins they dropped, it's just chump change, in the end, put together what is it, 80 or so Lien?" Jain sighed from his lying position.

Jaune was fairly sure that the point he had put into agility after the level up from the Creep horde was what caused his flipping the swordsman off to be faster than usual.

Or the practice.

"I'm just a starting hero, I'm not rolling in Lien like you are. "Jain rolled his eyes. "I still think picking up anything but the dagger and its sheath is a bit excessive. "At his words Jain patted the dagger now hanging below his sword.

"Whatever, in the end, it only took ten or so minutes to pick everything up, and now I can afford to eat at a good restaurant seven times." Jaune nodded at his own words. He had recently started to appreciate food more, especially the exotic one served in Vacuo.

One good meal a day keeps the uh, Grimm away. Sounded about right.

His critical gaze fell upon the still lounging swordsman.

"Enough dawdling let's get a move on." He promptly turned around to walk on, but still managed to see the expression on Jain's tanned face that signalled he was about to vomit up blood from anger.

"Jaune I have a question." The mentioned person glanced at the swordsman walking next to him. "What is it?"

"How do you distribute your Stats. "He had known this question would come, Jain didn't know his Level, but he could roughly estimate it. Therefore he would know that Jaune was way more physically adept, his magic reserves were lesser and his spells did less damage than other mages of his level.

"My automatic Stat allotment is into wisdom and intelligence, the other ones I all put into physical stats, depends on what I think I need at the moment. "Not like he had much of a choice, dimensional mages only had one offensive spell until Level 40. Rend. It was a spell that was quite similar to the sword slash projection that Jain had used to decimate the frontline of the creeps earlier.

A normal mage would simply wave his hands or staff, and a blade of dimensional energy would fly out the effectiveness of course dependant on the Wisdom and Intelligence Statistic and the mana put into it.

The special thing about this spell was that if you used it with a sword, you could almost double its power. Rend was made to be sharp. Maybe being fired off from something sharp doubled its effectiveness, maybe a swordsman could better utilize it because they understood sharpness and how to cut things on a visceral level?

He didn't know. But numerous sources said using it with a blade was better. And having such an obscure Class, he was desperate for any source of stability and guidance.

"Do you believe what you are doing is the best option available?" The fact he had to keep his concentration on sensing everything in their vicinity muddled his thoughts.

Like black paint falling into a puddle of clear water.

His path wasn't the only one. He could also use the fact that he would soon get the inventory skill to join any party he wanted. Being able to bring almost unlimited items into a dungeon was potentially life-saving. And shaving of the risk off death little by little is what adventurers appreciated a lot, secondary to levels and Lien, depending on the person.

But if he revealed his inventory skill, everyone would know he was a dimensional mage and most likely, before he could be carried to the level where he unlocked the teleport skill, not to even speak of level 40 where he would get his first really damaging spell that was worthy of being in the skill repertoire of a magic user, he would get kidnapped. Probably brainwashed by a mind mage, and be transported over the entire continent in a cage for the rest of his life.

He had thought long about the issue.

And the only other path that was even remotely feasible for him had been the magical swordsman path. He didn't have the luxury of taking his time, to think of more answers. He had to start laying the foundations to his future growth yesterday.

"I think it's the only option available to me, all other paths have been closed." Jain sighed. "To become a magical swordsman though, it used to be popular, back in the days of my ancestors, they wrote in our family grimoire. But soon people noticed being not as good as a swordsman at using a sword, and not as good at magic as a mage. Was not..." He trailed off.

"If you say you have no other option I believe you, just tell me what you actually need to do to succeed in your path. While I'm not going to spend my life helping you, I can offer some advice."

Jaune looked at the blue sky above him, it was always fucking blue, not like clouds would appear here, he accidentally looked at the sun, cursed and looked back to the ground. What did he need?

Swordsmanship, tedious, since his growth in that area, was crippled from the start by his class, the gain only being one fourth of that of an actual swordsman.

Stats. Which either meant, he needed to level faster than anybody else, thankfully because of his curse of being able to find dungeons he was set on that part, he just wasn't too keen on soloing a dungeon again.

Ever.

Another option was training, which he did, the only problem being that the returns were minimal and the more Stats you gained using this method the harder it would be. The only good point about this was that Jaune was sexy and he knew it, there existed fat heroes, how you wonder, well, they only allocated Stat points into their physical stats but didn't train or go out to kill Grimm often.

Only true physical exertion provided a good physique.

Oh sure running around adventuring and killing Grimm kept you in shape, no matter how rarely it was done, but only harsh work to increase your physique actually made you develop all the right muscles. And when you gained a Stat, your physique was so to say, locked, unable to deteriorate, since losing Stats wasn't possible, unless you sacrificed them in some ritual.

So, even if Jaune never trained again, his body would still be above average in the looks department. Not really life-saving, but nice.

The last thing he could think of was equipment. Artefacts to be exact. Since he was a mage he could only equip leather and cloth, no metal. The exception being artefacts. His steel greaves, for example, they didn't really have the most game breaking of properties, but they were metal and defended his feet, what he really, really, wanted was a chainmail vest and some gauntlets.

Rogues usually only wore chainmail vests and sometimes some shoulder plates and greaves.

With chainmail, gauntlets and his greaves, well, he would already be better equipped than some melee classes. Gauntlets were necessary to protect his hands since he would be using a sword and the chainmail vest was of course there to rudimentary protect his torso, the largest target.

He came from an old family, he knew the value of equipment. Someone equipped with only artefacts would have 1.4 times the combat potential as someone equipped with no name stuff.

For him, it wouldn't turn him into a monster, but hopefully, it would bridge the gap between him and melee classes of his level, the gap created by him being a mage.

And elixirs, he guessed, the potion that had given him the regeneration Stat, but he wouldn't bring his hopes up. Elixirs were rare. Raising a Stat or creating a new one without any work required. Not only were they rare. Everyone wanted them causing the price, of course, to inflate, first of all, adventurers who found it would most likely swallow it themselves, only those strapped for money would sell it. Secondly and thirdly everyone wanted them. These two factors caused elixirs to be sold at prices numbering in the tens of thousands of Lien.

Another advantage rich kids have over everyone else.

The last option was skillbooks, also something everyone wanted. Also something rare and expensive.

More expensive than elixirs even, the only saving grace being, you actually knew what you were buying, skillbooks had the name of the skill it offered on the cover. Which meant that some common, or not so useful ones were available for up to ten thousand Lien, doable.

The most common ones, of course, being not so useful. But having a skill and not having one could be crucial. If he had the money, and the chance, he would grab one even if it was only herbalism or spark.

"Hah, what I need to succeed, you know the usual, Swordsmanship, training my stats, artefact grade equipment, the most useful one being some gauntlets and a chainmail vest. Some skillbooks and elixirs wouldn't hurt either."

Jain laughed. "Well, we won't be finding any elixirs in Vacuo, maybe you will have more luck in Vale, ab-," Jaune interrupted him with narrowed eyes. "What do you mean more luck in Vale." The swordsman looked at him oddly.

"Every country has certain drop rates on certain items, what's likelier and what isn't. Weird that you don't know this but Vale has the highest chance of dropping elixirs, Vacuo the highest on artefacts, Atlas has the best skillbooks, coincidentally why they are at the helm of research and magic, they have more books hehe, and Mistral has the absolute highest droprate on close combat skillbooks weirdly enough." Jaune furrowed his brows, why hadn't he known about that? Not that he thought Jain was untrustworthy but he would first validate that information.

"Well continuing on, if we do find some equipment useful for you, you can have it, I call dibs on all swords though, it's my hobby to gather them."Jaune waved him off. "You already gave me an artefact grade sheath and sword, I will accept only the things I really need if we find something that is."

Rolling his eyes at being interrupted again Jain continued."Well, skillbooks are rare as hell in Vacuo, we might find some sword related ones in the pyramid if we find it. I can give you the ones I don't need but..." Jaune nodded.

"I understand."

"But Swordsmanship and Stat training, that I can help you with. Though, I don't want you whining during that, ruins the atmosphere."

Tears almost escaped Jaune's eyes, but he forced them back with the power of his manliness and social conditioning. If he held all his promises, Jain might actually be, the nicest person Jaune had ever meet. If.

"I would be grateful for any pointers you can offer."

* * *

 **In my opinion maybe not the most awkward looking, or the most awkward to read chapter. But definitely the most awkward to edit.**

 **Whilst seeing what I had brought into the world, "well you managed to salvage that fear the calms man wrath shit**

 **that I believe I wrote up while under the influence of psychedelics."**

 **True story bro. The unedited part of that was so much cringier than you could imagine.**

 **Also having trouble characterizing Jain, I keep getting the weird feeling I'm doing something wrong with him.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Editors: ShadowWhat, Talon Searunner**

 **Chapter 9**

* * *

The ringing of swords resounded through the air of the small oasis that Jaune and his friend had set up camp in, as much for rest as it was to replenish their dwindling water supply.

Well, to be more precise, a clanking of sticks heralded the, by now routine, training session as two people jumped, weaved and clashed against each other in a display, such that if they had held actual swords, would have produced numerous sparks.

The smaller figure suddenly dashed forward at a speed it had not yet exhibited, trying to catch the other by surprise, sword raised in a thrust. The larger one however not at all concerned calmly raised his sword and set it against the thrusting one.

A small circle drawn in the air disarmed the speeding boy, and a boot to the stomach send him rolling on the ground retching loudly.

"I think that's it for today." Jain stretched his bare upper body as if the spar hadn't even loosened his muscles. To be fair, it really hadn't. Pulling his hair which had became slightly ruffled he once again put it into a ponytail while muttering to himself."I'm going to have to cut this soon."

By this point, Jaune had recovered and was sitting on the ground scratching the accumulated sand from his sweaty chest and back.

It had been quite, embarrassing, to fight bare-chested. Well, until he'd tried training with Jain for an hour with his shirt and vest on. The sweat had stayed with him for seven or more hours making the whole day unpleasant.

The harsh training regimen was working however, he had gained a point in both dexterity and strength already, and his swordsmanship had grown. The stat and exp growth was larger than the growth he had gained from training with his mother.

He was still unsure if it was because Jain was closer to his age and also male, (therefore being able to explain things better) if after his harrowing experience in the dungeon was a better student, or maybe that Jain was simply better with a sword than his mum.

Jaune thought it was all of these things and the fact Jains style of combat suited him more. His family being knights, they fought using a shield and a sword. He had been trained without one since a shield would just weigh a mage down, but the swordsmanship of his family was still more focused on defending rather than evading, on persevering rather than overwhelming.

Jain in contrast dodged, countered and generally just did not fight in a predictable way that would let the enemy make plans against it in the short time that the fight lasted.

Why bother defending against a likely stronger opponent when you can just dodge? Being the aggressor is almost always a better position.

Some things he had pounded into the mage's head along with the line, in a fight, everything is relative and subjective.

Which simultaneously was contradicting and annoying.

But it seemed to work for Jain, as you could never expect what he would do next.

-/-

As they set out, once more burdened down with heavy water they needed to survive Jain continued Jaune's education.

Jain talked to him about the missions he'd done, the people he'd fought and the places he'd been, it was all very interesting. Thinking back on some of the places his teacher mentioned, he wanted to visit them himself one day.

The Great Library of the City under the Sun, the Canyon of Swords and The Mountain. Its name was 'The Mountain' because it was The Mountain, the biggest one in Vacuo. On its top resided a powerful Buddhist sect, every member a monk trying to reach Enlightenment.

The mage suddenly narrowed his eyes. He felt a cave. This was by no means an unusual thing, as during their one month journey they had found numerous caves and ruins, some containing Grimm, others the rotted remains of people who had huddled within during a sandstorm.

But every time they explored one Jains hopes visibly grew brighter, on his own wanderings through the path that the long dead adventurer had taken, he had only found maybe 1/3 of the possible entrances to the pyramid.

But this cavern was different than the others. Even from here Jaune felt the spatial undulations heralding the suction of energy from the surroundings entering its mouth. A dungeon. He looked at Jain out of the corner of his eye.

The happily whistling swordsman hadn't noticed anything unusual. The question Jaune was asking himself was, should they, or should they not?

Jaune then remembered how his partner had almost single-handedly dispatched a Grimm horde led by an Alpha with almost contemptuous ease

"I sense a cave." Jain's eyes snapped to him so fast he would have started if he hadn't witnessed the same phenomenon numerous times before.

"Lead the way then."

Not bothering giving a verbal answer Jaune simply nodded and headed towards the location of their next small adventure, which was approximately 400 feet away. Good, his range was increasing due to him going several hours a day only concentrating on the skill.

The entrance was hidden under a thick layer of sand, so Jaune had to lead them both there. Squatting down, he swept away some sand on the ground, revealing a stone slab inscribed with some unrecognisable words.

While Jaune was puzzling over it, Jain suddenly spoke. „Wait-! I know about this, during the era of discovery, dungeons started being found since humans finally grew strong enough to move out of their hovels. But every time someone entered a dungeon they would never return. The people back then assumed dungeons were evil entities sent by Akhara to swallow all their best warriors, so they sealed the entrances and wrote warnings on the blockages." Here he stepped forward and his finger slowly followed the completely faded words.

"Leave, for a great evil rests here. If you cherish life then go forth and never come back." Jaune rolled his eyes.

"Spooky, come on let's go." He stepped forward and raised the stone slab a bit and started manoeuvring it away from the hole. Jain rapidly grabbed his hand, stopping him and making him almost drop the heavy weight on his foot. He looked at him, annoyed."Hey, what gives?"

Jain gave him an incredulous look. "You actually want to enter this dungeon are you mad?" Here the mage gave him a confused look. "It's just a permanent one, nothing special."

Jain furrowed his brows. "A permanent one-?, I've been to two dungeons before, both of them almost costing my life, I have never heard of the term."

He hadn't? Weird. Jaune guessed it must have been pretty obscure information, such that it required knowledge about energy undulations and their effect on dimensional doorways.

Which only mages studied. A swordsman would have no reason to know.

"I guess I have to explain it then, dungeons are divided into three categories. Low energy dungeons, permanent dungeons and high energy dungeons. All dungeons suck up the energy from their surroundings, the energy they require is equivalent to the difficulty of the dungeon itself. Low energy dungeons dissolve after a time because they don't suck up all the energy in their surroundings and the remaining energy disrupts the makeup."

he took a long breath, talking was hard. "High energy dungeons dissolve because their surroundings can't regenerate the required energy fast enough to sustain them."

here Jain's eyes lit up as he interrupted, he wasn't stupid after all. "And permanent dungeons would require exactly the same amount of energy as their surroundings can give them." Jaune nodded, the spark in Jain's eyes as he understood had been-, pleasant-? Maybe he should become a teacher. "Exactly."

"Now, a permanent dungeon, in the capital of Vacuo, I would not enter. For a dungeon to attain the status of permanent in such an energy intensive environment would mean the enemies in it would be simply monstrous." The swordsman's eyes lit up again.

"However, this dungeon is in the middle of a barren desert, it can only be weak. In addition, it can only be a permanent one since we can deduce it was probably sealed about 2000 years ago." Well, or it could simply be a high end or low-end dungeon that had already deteriorated. Jaune, of course, knew it wasn't since he felt the dungeon itself. The hole in reality that it, suffused by a stable amount of power drawing only what was produced.

A sudden crack resounded making him startle.

Jain had picked up the stone slab with one hand! And had thrown it away, breaking it on the ground.

Then he hopped into the dark hole and shouted back to Jaune."You coming?" Jaune stared at the man who had previously been scared.

"No matter how you look at it, aren't you suddenly to enthusiastic."

With a sigh, he then leapt down as well.

Jaune landed on hard ground, feet meeting stone with a thud thankfully. Summoning an arcane bolt he saw a tunnel leading towards a dark doorway, the back of Jain in front of it.

"You sure you want to do this?" Jaune stepped forward."I mean, just seconds ago you were vehemently protesting."

Jain waved his hand in the air as if to scatter any doubts. „You convinced me let's go." Then he stepped through the doorway.

The mage sighed as he followed, but before he could enter a violent sensation ripped through his body. His knees were shaking. Jaune looked down at them, they were shivering. He licked his suddenly dry lips and put a palm where his heart was. Feeling it beat in his chest.

"I'm alive." But if he followed he might not be in the near future. There very many things taught to the youths belonging to the house of Arc.

Hesitation was not one of them.

He stepped through

To find Jain standing there grinning at him.

"I thought that you would hesitate longer, it's good that you can continue on after a traumatic experience." Here his eyes grew sad and his face fell." If you couldn't, you would have no future as a hero or as an adventurer."

The swordsman sounded like he was talking from personal experience.

He was also right. What future would he have if he froze up and hesitated? A fire, akin to a flickering candle grew in his chest, radiating a sureness that no matter what, he would never stop pursuing the path of a hero.

"You're going to take point this time." Jaune whipped his head towards Jain at these words and in askance.

"Why?" Here, Jain grinned.

"Well, according to you, you've never really fought Grimm in close quarters, but the experience is necessary since Grimm make up basically 99% of monsters not inside of dungeons. This is a great opportunity to gather some experience." Seeing Jaune's worry-filled expression Jain reassured him. "Don't worry, I'll be here to catch you if you fall so to say."

"How do you know this dungeon contains Grimm?" Jain simply pointed at the wall they were standing next to, it had the picture of a beowolf on it, illuminated by some ghostly green torches that seemed to be present at specific intervals all over the corridor.

"Oh."

"Jain," Jain looked at him, eyes filled with seriousness for once."Yeah?" Jaune asked the question even if he already suspected the answer. "If Grimm are 99% of the world's monsters are Grimm, what are the 1%?"

By the way Jain grimaced at the question Jaune already knew what he would say, so he turned around and headed down the small corridor, its stone illuminated by ghostly green flames that were coming from sconces along the dark stone.

"Humans." The word echoed oddly in the dungeon as if it had some metaphysical weight.

The first room held two Beowolves, Jaune had to restrain an instinctive gulp. They were huge definitely stronger than the ones in Aschen.

Making the prospect of fighting them in close quarters equipped with only a sword and not using magic particularly...

Unappealing.

"I'll take the one on the right." Jaune nodded gratefully at his partner.

'You may not be rewarded by hard work, but without hard work, there will definitely be no reward.'

Jaune sighed and stepped into the room causing the Beowolves to immediately perk up and start growling.

A shadow shot forth from behind Jaunes right shoulder and entangled one of the monsters leaving Jaune to stare into the red hate filled eyes of the other Grimm that reached up to his shoulders.

Sword held before him Jaune waited for the overgrown mutt to do something, but it only circled him, as if waiting for him to make a mistake.

He glanced towards Jain to see if he was already done, judging by the dissolving corpse on the ground that was indeed the case.

"Jaune! Don't take your eyes of your enemy!"

The mage flinched and threw himself to the left, only barely avoiding the Grimm that had probably launched itself at him the moment it saw him getting distracted.

Coming to his feet he lunged forward to score a small slash on the Grimm's flank before he had to retreat again as it chomped viciously at the position his arm had been a millisecond before.

The slash had done quite a lot of damage if you took Jaune's swordsmanship and stats into account, mostly thanks to the item that Jain had gifted him, Scabbard of Youngster. The first attack after drawing the sword within was always amplified.

Jaune and the Beowulf circled each other once again.

But this time Jaune went on the offensive. Sliding forwards he tried to slash at the creatures eyes, which led to no success whatsoever. The Grimm ducked slightly causing his sword to rebound from the bone plating on the head and Jaune had to once again jump back to avoid a swipe of its claws.

This time he didn't retreat fully though, while the Grimm was still swiping at his previous position he stepped forward and kicked away its other foreleg causing the beast to collapse on the ground.

Jaune grinned, so they were smarter, but not by a grand margin when compared to their juvenile counterparts.

Taking the opportunity he stabbed into its flank, the sword entering its unprotected sides like a thousand degree knife through butter.

Unfortunately before he could pull out the sword and retreat once again the Beowulf's mouth gnashed towards his head and would have probably mauled him if Jain hadn't stepped in and cut its head off in one precise strike.

Standing in front of his friend , with Jaune's sword clanging on the ground as it fell out of the dissolving corpse Jain scratched his head and spoke.

"Well..." Jaune's shoulders slumped."I know..."

"Well, look at it positively, at least you can only improve at this point. "If it had been possible Jaune's shoulders would have slumped even more.

"I think I'll have you fight one on one with a Grimm in every room,"

They continued onwards, Jaune wondering how melee classes did it. The fishmen had been okay, but Grimm were so much stronger as a species, who actually dared to fight them?

Although, normally young heroes would only begin to fight juvenile Grimm when they were 14, so, he guessed he was ahead of the curve.

Go Jaune go?

There were many differences between Grimm and humans, but they could be simplified into two main issues.

Physical Strength and Intelligence.

A Grimm was most of the time twice as strong as the hero trying to vanquish it. Three times if the Vanquisher was a non-melee class. In Jaune's case two and a half since he put his points into physical stats.

So what was it that let humans survive the stronger and more battle designed phenomenon for millennia. Some might say magic, classes or friendship.

The answer was weapons. Grimm were born with them, claws, fangs and bone plating serving as armour. Humans, however, created their weapons, spears, swords, bows and so much more. The class making these weapons, the blacksmith naturally received more respect than other NPC's due to this.

While a sword used in comparison to a gigantic ursa may not look like much, you had to take into account, its, sharpness.

If a sword was brought down vertically upon the unprotected flesh of a Grimm it would sink in with only the slightest push, spilling its black ichor and destroying the muscles it needed to function.

A sharp sword was a deadly weapon, one that had helped humanity survive for a very long time.

The second thing one had to take into account was the difference in Intelligence, just how humans were inferior in terms of physical strength to the monsters, the Grimm were inferior to the humans in terms of intellect and adaptability.

A human who fought one Grimm, and then deduced strategies for the next one; gained experience. He could also learn from other humans without ever even stepping near a battle. In one year, one could turn a complete amateur into someone semi-capable.

For this simple process, Grimm needed decades, if not hundreds of years.

Jaune clearly felt the inferiority of his physical prowess as he did all he could to prevent getting skewered by the claws of the two Beowolves circling him.

But oddly enough, he didn't really feel his Intellectual superiority, if anything he felt his adaptability. In the beginning, he had nearly died against one Beowolf. Now he was holding his own.

But holding his own wasn't winning, and though he was occasionally scoring shallow cuts on the beast, in terms of stamina, it had him beat.

He was already running out of breath.

Rolling backwards he barely managed to escape an unhygienic mauling. Jain had already dealt with the other beast.

This was his so called 'experience gathering.'

While technically fighting one on one against this monstrosity, if he ever came close to death the swordsman stepped in and saved him.

But only then.

At this point, Jaune was almost tempted to simply throw himself into the creatures mouth, just so Jain would kill it and his burning lungs would gain some reprieve.

Trying to kill it wasn't even present in his thoughts, even if he did, he would only be training against two of them the next time.

He had been acquainted with Jain long enough to know how his twisted mind worked. He was only doing it to help him, this much Jaune knew. That still didn't mean that his training methods weren't inhumane though.

After a few minutes of barely dodging, he finally got caught in a corner and his training partner was disposed of.

"You're getting better, I think you will be able to kill one on your own, soon" The mage grumbled to conceal the fact he was happy with the praise.

"I better be improving, it would be pretty unfair if I wasn't." He looked at Jain hopefully, "Are you sure you don't know any super-mega-awesome technique that would instantly make me stronger?"

Jain's eyes twitched. "Brat, if I knew such a skill I sure as hell wouldn't be here in this desert, I would be in the capital being a respected mentor and living the rest of my days in debauchery." At Jaune's disappointed look he sighed.

"Look, the only thing anyone can do for you is give you the basics and let you gather experience, it's the tried and true method of creating a strong individual adventurer." His words seemed to fall on deaf ears as Jaune asked."What about a hero though?"

Here, the swordsman rolled his eyes. "Jaune, you're Valean, I get it, but the only difference between an adventurer and a hero is the fact that a hero gets paid in gratitude, and an adventurer in coin."

"That's a pessimistic way to look at things."

"It's the way it is, a hero roams the land getting paid by your Council of Vale to help whoever he can and is, therefore, more likely to encounter a situation he can't handle, an adventurer takes calculated risks, which raises his survivability by a lot." here he chuckled," Well, unless he's really bad at math."

"But a hero helps more people." Jaune was stubborn, he had been raised by a family of knights, he knew what the honourable decision was.

"In the end, a hero is only an adventurers whose quest is provided by the council, let's just let the topic be, I never knew there was such a perceived difference between a hero and an adventurer until I met you."

Jaune shrugged.

Then, he suddenly looked into the corner of the room they had just entered.

There was a corpse. More specifically, a skeleton.

Jaune jerked his head in its direction, "Look, a skeleton." Jain threw a glance at it and started walking over.

When he noticed Jaune wasn't he turned to him and waved the mage to him, "Even if it doesn't sound nice you always have to loot the corpses that you find in dungeons, sometimes they have important information or good items on them."

Jaune wrinkled his brow, "I know it's the smart thing to do, doesn't mean I have to like it."

Jain shrugged and started rummaging through the pile of bones that used to be a human being, it's clothing had already rotted away, the only thing left was a scabbard at its side, some miscellaneous pieces of rusted armour and a leather satchel that looked like it had seen better times.

Naturally, as a swordsman, Jain's focus first fell on the sword.

It took a bit of time to draw it out, Jaune thought it probably hadn't even been worth the effort considering the curved sword was rusted beyond use and had more holes than actual metal in it.

Jain seemed to agree with him as he simply threw it aside and headed for the leather satchel.

Opening it he couldn't quite see inside the ghastly green lights not really raising the visibility by much.

Reaching in he pulled out a crumbling book that promptly turned to dust when he lay it on the ground, the only thing left being the hardcover and a few unreadable pages.

Out of curiosity Jaune tried to read the cover, „ ..ia.y .. Th.r.. ..ke.s..el." Probably the diary of the deceased adventurer.

"Now what do we have here."

Jaune turned his eyes away from the unreadable diary, and looked towards the pile of objects that his partner had pulled out of the satchel. Mostly things that had aged so much they were useless, some even completely unrecognisable.

Then he looked at the object in the swordsman's hand, a pristine looking square piece of metal that opened with a snap.

He reached with open hands towards it, and Jain handed it over without saying anything.

The mage twirled the thing in his hands opening it and closing it,"Yep, this is a compass" Jain tilted his head in confusion.

"I was under the impression only ship captains needed such a device, what is it doing on land?"

Jaune shrugged, "Well it definitely doesn't look like a normal compass, for one, there are no poles actually engraved on it and it also doesn't have a needle but a miniature sword."

"It's definitely not normal though, either it's an artefact or a mage cast an enchantment on it, there is no way it would have survived the passage of time otherwise." Jain nodded.

"I'll just leave it to you then, I don't know how to even start researching these things and even if it would show the poles whatever that is I doubt I would ever need it." At this point, he stood up with an umphh having searched through all the dead man's belongings.

When he noticed the mage still sitting on the ground and fiddling with the device in his hand he called him over.

"Come on, the only time there's an empty room it means we are about to fight the boss of the dungeon, let's just finish it."

Jaune stopped fiddling with the compass and stashed it away into his bag.

"I hope you aren't planning on having me take point again." That would be horrible, he was confident about taking on a single 'normal' Grimm, but against a boss, he was less than confident.

"Don't worry about it, gaining experience is nice and all but I'll finish this one quickly, bosses tend to be pretty strong I'm not going to risk our lives here," here he put his hand under his chin in a thinking position."Though with how easy the dungeons been up until now I don't really have many expectations for this boss."

Jaune rolled his eyes as he followed him down the corridor, "Well, yeah, I told you it was a permanent dungeon literally in the middle of nowhere."

Even if they didn't think the boss would be that strong they couldn't help but feel a little nervous whilst nearing the last room, after all, a boss was an existence above other monsters.

When they finally reached it however they couldn't help but sigh in relief.

It was just an alpha beowolf.

Sure, for a party of young heroes, it was quite a problem, but Jaune didn't think for even a moment that Jain would have any issues with disposing of this thing.

As if hearing his thoughts the swordsman sprung forward in a thrust piercing the only now awakening alpha in the stomach.

Jaune sent a few symbolic arcane bolts at the boss to make it look like he was doing something, they actually seemed to do some damage, even if it was only the human equivalent of bruises.

Even if the alpha valiantly dodged, with speed belying its size, around the room in its attempts to escape the swordsman, it was seldom counterattacking, and soon enough Jain had cut the thing apart leaving it to dissolve into the air, he hadn't even had to use a single skill.

"That was pretty anticlimactic." Jaune couldn't help but say.

Jain shrugged, "It was a pretty young Alpha bewolf. If it was a human warrior its level would have been around 35"

"But yeah, that was pretty anticlimactic for a dungeon, and look, "he pointed at the loot the wolf had dropped, "it dropped a lance, not even artefact grade, just a lance."

Of course, that was the point where everything started shaking akin to an earthquake and the dungeon started to visibly break apart.

* * *

 **A boring chapter that sets up the beginning of the end to this arc.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

 **Edited by: ShadowWhat; Talon Searunner**

* * *

Before he could even progress what was happening, why it was happening. What the hell he'd never even heard of dungeons breaking after a clear what was he supposed to do?! Jaune had already been hauled over Jain's shoulder like the most blonde bag of potatoes ever, and they took off running faster than he'd ever thought possible, impressive, especially when taking into account that the swordsman was carrying another person.

Jaune could do nothing but watch the cracks in the walls rapidly expand. The ghostly green flames as they flickered and died, buried in rubble. The dungeon walls that were speeding by impossibly fast simply breaking apart behind them.

Suddenly they were at the entrance, which he noticed due to the fact he saw the natural sunlight. Huh, they really hadn't taken long to clear it if it was still daytime.

The next moment he felt himself being flung into the air like a ragdoll, vaguely seeing Jain out of the corner of his eye jumping out after him before the entire cave collapsed.

The budding mage tried to tuck in all his limbs and imitate a ball, but he didn't quite manage, his body not able to keep up with his thought process. So he just sprawled onto the sands limbs stretched in all directions.

Right before he landed, he thought he saw some type of bird out of the corner of his eye. Weird thing to take note of in his situation.

Standing up, spitting sand from his mouth, Jaune turned to see if his partner had managed to land better than him.

Seeing Jain lying on his back breathing heavily, Jaune assumed he did, just that afterwards he hadn't the energy to stay standing.

Hobbling over to his companion he lay down as well, staring into the unbelievably blue sky.

It had all been so fast.

He'd almost died.

That was it. No more dungeons unless they were of the weak variety, this was getting ridiculous.

"Well, at least it didn't end as anticlimactically as we thought it did." Jain let out a chuckle next to him making Jaune turn his head incredulously.

"How can you be so calm?" It was hard to make a shrug unleash its full potential of 'whateverness' while lying down but Jain managed it.

"There is a reason that combat classes tend to have 20% mortality rate before they hit 30 years old," here Jain sighed, "and, after a while, you come to terms with the fact that your life can end at any time."

"That's depressing. "Jaune said causing the swordsman to chuckle, "Ain't that right. You know I used to envy NCP's? I could just work a monotonous job, sometimes being able to curse at those incompetent heroes and adventurers when they failed to protect you. "He trailed off making Jaune ask through his plunging adrenaline level.

"What changed?"

"There are a lot of different forms of adventuring, I discarded being a hero very soon, it was too..." he sounded like it was looking for a word, "hmm, selfless. Dedicating your entire life to protecting others, who at most times wouldn't even be grateful but only condemn you for the ones you couldn't save."

He righted himself up. "After that I went over to adventuring, doing quests and dungeons and so on, but I didn't like that either."

Following his example, Jaune stood up as well. "So what do you like then?"

The swordsman turned to the sun that was slowly descending beneath the dunes, "I like making progress with the sword and, exploring, going places not many have been before."

"Of course, before I can go to the places absolutely nobody has been before, well let's just say I'm going to have to become a lot stronger."

Jaune stared at the sunset with his friend.

"Why did we stand up if we have to make camp now anyway."

"For the dramatic effect of staring at the setting sun while relying on only your legs to keep you upright."

"I have to admit, it does set a pretty nice atmosphere."

"It does doesn't it."

-/-

Jaune munched on some black bread gruel, lamenting over the taste as he tried to sense everything in proximity.

A single black bread can last an adult ten whole days and the way one usually consumed it was different than that of normal bread. Should one attempt to bite it as it is, one's teeth would undoubtedly fall out.

There were a few ways one could eat black bread. If there was ample time, it could be roasted over a fire and cut into half for meat to be sandwiched in between. If there wasn't enough time to roast it, the bread could be hammered into powder and cooked with water to make some gruel. It could also be consumed after simply softening it up with water and chewing it slowly before swallowing the clump.

With water being a precious resource in the desert they'd been eating black bread as it was, their strength Stat carried over to their jaw musculature after all. Even if Jaune had had a few problems at first until he'd discovered the trick of cutting it up into smaller pieces and then softening it up with saliva.

Thankfully that wasn't necessary anymore, the place where the journal dictated the pyramid resided in was close to an oasis, so they had enough water to spare their teeth.

This didn't make his frustration over the fact he couldn't find their goal any better. At this point, he had been the only one who had profited from this trip, gaining two levels from the occasional

Grimm horde and the dungeon they had been in.

Jain had at best gotten some experience in teaching others the way of the sword. Jaune stood up and started pacing angrily. Sending arcane bolts in all directions under the pretence that he was training, not simply venting.

"Are you still mad about not finding anything?" Jain said from where he was sitting and butchering some cacti so they would finally have some variety in their food.

Jaune looked at him incredulously, "No, I'm mad because the only damn place you can find mosquitos in this damn desert is apparently the oasis we spent yesterday at."

Jain sighed, "Come on Jaune, don't lash out at me. I'm pretty disappointed as well, but you don't see me raging my ass off."

Jaune saw a small tower of sand and walked over to it while talking, "I know, I know, but I thought I could repay you for saving my life by helping you find the pyramid, but it's just." not finding any words to express his frustration he kicked the small dune.

Only to yelp in pain as his unarmoured feet, having left the greaves off as they didn't help with sensing, hit something hard.

"Motherfucker!" Hopping on one foot, he could basically feel as his other one became swollen, from the impact, "Which son of a bitch thought it was a good idea to hide a rock under some sand, come out and I will make your death painless!"

He looked over to Jain, who would usually be the one laughing at his misfortune, but the swordsman was just staring transfixed at the sand dune he'd kicked.

Suddenly not even bothering on standing up he scrambled there on all fours kicking up sand behind him. Throwing himself on the ground next to it he started shovelling the sand away with his bare hands to reveal a weathered stone underneath.

And another one.

And another one.

Suddenly he threw himself on his back and started laughing hysterically. Ignoring his throbbing leg he walked over to the madly laughing swordsman, maybe he had ingested the cacti raw and was now hallucinating.

He nudged him with his foot."Hey, are you okay?" Jain didn't stop laughing for a while but started noticeably losing out on air.

Once he had fully stopped he looked at Jaune and seemed to crack chuckling a bit every time he tried speaking."Well, just, the way you actually found the pyramid. After all, your talk about sensing, the way you found it is quite humorous."

Jaune looked over to the stone on the ground, it was quite square and there were two others underneath it and now that he knew it existed he sensed that it went on and on becoming bigger and bigger until it went out of his range.

Then it hit him.

He hadn't tried sensing underground this entire time.

Jaune stared into the sky.

"Are you fucking kidding me."

Then he promptly turned to the slightly hysteric swordsman. "So, what now." Jaune considered his job finished, he'd found the thing, even if *cough*, using slightly unorthodox means. Now it was Jain's turn to lead the expedition and to bring out all the treasures.

Jain furrowed his brow, "What do you mean what now." The words making Jaune shrug.

"Well, I found the thing, I don't know the plan for after that. We should secure the premises, prepare torches, and make sure we have enough water and food." Here he looked at Jain, suddenly a bit distraught, "You do have a plan, don't you?" The swordsman looked to the right and started whistling a tune. "Please tell me you actually thought of what we were going to do if we ever found the pyramid."

The whistling grew louder.

-/-

Several hours passed, the time Jain had said he needed to formulate a plan. Jaune had used this time to train arcane bolt, he was close to the next level, he could feel it in his bones. They sat down together to discuss what they were going to do.

"Ok Jaune, first things first, can your sensing reach into the pyramid, "The mage nodded, "Good then basically you will be making a map of what you can feel. Meanwhile I will be scouting everything in a square mile, so that after we enter no surprises find us. Also I will prepare some food. Cacti and the like, you have anything to add?" Jaune nodded.

"Torches." causing Jain to grimace.

"No can do, no wood,. Bad planning on my part, but to be fair I didn't actually expect us to find the pyramid, don't be mad at me for doubting your skill," he giggled. Jaune grimaced, yeah, skill. "Can your arcane bolt provide light? I've never really looked at it that closely."

"It can but it's minimal." The brown haired teen shrugged.

"Better than nothing, here the writing supplies." He pushed a piece of parchment and pencil into Jaune's hand then ran off.

A bit too eagerly in Jaune's opinion. Well, searching for the pyramid for who knows how many months was bound to get anyone hyped up.

Kneeling down next to the uncovered top of the pyramid he stretched out his senses, then promptly sighed.

"We're gonna have a problem here. "For the umpteenth time this day, Jaune threw himself backwards into the sands and stared into the clear sky. So boring, there were never any clouds here. He should have expected this honestly, what kind of pyramid, had anything in the top.

The entrance was at ground level and so were the rooms, the structure was too big for his sensing to come even remotely close to a room.

Their only option they had was to, ugh, excavate it. How they were going to do that was a mystery, maybe they could just blast it open with powerful skills? Or, if it was deemed too fragile, they might have to unbury it, one handful of sand after the other.

Having nothing to do, Jaune picked up one of the practice swords they'd brought along and started swinging.

"Why is the paper empty, is the pyramid coated in anti magic stones?" Jain did not sound happy, nor did he look happy. With scratches all over him, tears in his clothes and dishevelled hair his appearance told a story of battle all in itself. At least he wasn't angry, Jaune didn't deal well with anger, the swordsman was just exasperated.

The mage sighed at the news he was about to give on, "So you know, the entrance to a pyramid is usually at the base.." He didn't need to say much.

After the few words, Jain groaned and eerily similar to himself when he found out. Threw himself on the ground to look at the setting sun.

Or maybe he himself was eerily similar to Jain, people you respected and spent time with rubbed off on you after all.

"So what do you think about the structural integrity, can we just blast it open, or do we have to slowly unbury it?" Jaune pointed at himself as if asking if the question was directed at him.

"Well you're the only other person here," Jain looked around suspiciously, "hopefully and you are a mage, so you have more general knowledge than me."

Jaune considered his words carefully,"It's fifty-fifty at this point, we can either do it fast, but risk it collapsing, or slow and take a few weeks."

The constipated look did not suit the swordsman's face, then he spoke as if through gritted teeth, "Jaune, how good are your digging skills?"

"I was afraid you'd say that."

-/-

A swordsman and a mage lay exhausted in the shade of a gigantic structure made up of rough sandstone, held together by old age and the symbolical power it contained.

Gasping for breath and occasionally blowing some hair out of his eyes, he was also going to need to cut it soon, Jaune stared at his hands, covered in scratches and calloused as they were.

"Well, at least no one can call me out on having the hands of a woman anymore." Jain laughed, "Yes, instead they will call you out on the fact that you have the hair of a woman!"

Jaune threaded his fingers through his shaggy hair that almost reached down to his shoulder blades. It was losing its colour as well, slowly bleaching itself from the exposure to the sun, the opposite of his body actually.

His skin was growing darker by the day, leaving the fish dungeon he'd been the usual pasty white of a Valean who spent too much time under the shade of the ever present trees.

The training sessions that he participated in shirtless had turned him browner, oh and the sunburns, couldn't forget the sunburns. But the last month, toiling under the sun in had given him the final push to turn into something that could be compared to a bronze statue. Jaune had liked his white skin...

"The oasis is drying out." The mage commented. Jain nodded before answering.

"Estimated time, I'd say we have-" The words put the swordsman into deep thought as he calculated before he finally answered. "Two weeks."

Jaune stood up and started dressing in his battle gear, "No time to waste then, the way to the next oasis once we start heading back is one week, so we have one and a half weeks maximum to explore the pyramid, if we stretch it." Fastening the frog to his pants, he looked over to the Jain to see that the man was already finished.

At his questioning look, the man shrugged and answered, "Practice."

Gathering up most the campsite, or at where they had spent quite a large portion of their time seemed oddly final and brought a sense of melancholy with it, the weeks they'd spend here had been, fun, if you could believe it. Definitely hard, but, fun nonetheless.

Now it would be over soon. After exploring the pyramid, they would return to Sanshu and plan their course from there, hopefully with new levels of swordsmanship under their belts.

Jaune summoned an arcane bolt as they entered the pyramid, the entrance looking like the gaping maw of some ferocious beast.

The flickering green light of Jaunes magic grew more and more necessary as they descended, leaving the outside world behind them.

It was weak, but strong enough.

"Stop."

Jaune halted and entered a defensive stance, bolt floating over his shoulder like some arcane form of a wisp.

"Can you bring the light closer to the walls? "Jaune did so and recognized why he had been asked, drawings were starting to appear on the walls. Murals of ages long past, showing scenes of battle with only one thing in common.

Every character, be it the holy man with a circlet of light floating above his head, or the black and red spawn of hell. They all had one thing in common. They were all holding swords.

Taking a look at Jain, he saw that the other teen was completely immersed. Not willing to pull him out of his concentration Jaune simply walked with him and shed light onto walls that hadn't been seen by other humans in probably a millenia.

They had to backtrack a few times, Jain wanted to take a look at both walls, the ceiling and to go back every time he thought he had missed something.

Jaune wondered if this was what others felt like when they helped a mage with their research. He would have to remember to not be so hyper-focused that he ignored everything, and everyone, in his radius.

Oh, it wasn't like he wasn't interested in the murals, it just wasn't the fanatical devotion that the swordsman seemed to display.

It wasn't long before they reached their first obstacle: a door. To Jaune's senses it was literally vibrating with magic. He got the idea that he would regret trying to open it by force. Only weird thing about this door, it had no hinges and no door knob, but it was clearly a door, somehow...

On the otherwise plain wooden door, they were 5 characters inscribed in different positions, characters he'd never seen before, and neither did he know of a language that used such.

Jain was muttering to himself, "A puzzle maybe, a riddle?" Jaune suddenly felt a slight shaking in his baggage. Putting it on the ground he rummaged through it only to find the compass with the sword like needle to be slowly pulling itself towards the door, trying to escape the hand grasping it.

Interested in what would happen Jaune let it go, it flew to the door and crashed into it with a bang. Something flashed, like light reflected from a mirror, Jain was ripped from his thoughts by the noise but before he could say anything the door had disintegrated.

The swordsman blinked," Well, that was definitely easier than expected." Jaune looked at him oddly.

"What riddle were you talking about?" Jaune asked causing the swordsman to turn to him in askance, "You didn't see it?" Jaune glared at him and said, "See what."

Jain explained, "There was a riddle on the door, about swords and cats and dogs and an apple." Jaune mused, "Maybe a class specific illusion? I am a mage in the sword god pyramid after all."

Jaune picked up the unharmed compass that was lying on the ground. "Maybe we should take a break." Jain simply shook his head and walked on, ignoring the fact that without Jaune he had no light. The mage sighed and followed.

The next room, it was a room, not a corridor, was home to many statues, statues that were very big as well. Nine in total. The statues were all of the same person, an old man with a flowing beard, even in stone and a just as flowing white robe, his eyebrows were bushy and he looked old, yet powerful.

He was also holding up a sword and demonstrating the basic sword stances. While Jain was more interested in the statues and was already trying to replicate the stances, the mage walked over to the other side of the room, where there was a wall with nine circles, each one filled with unreadable words.

Nine circles, nine statues. Suddenly one lit up a bright blue causing Jaune to recoil backwards in shock and start charging an arcane bolt.

Looking back he saw Jain perfectly imitating the stance of the first statue.

He muttered to himself, "So it was like this." He whistled at Jain causing him to cease his attempts at replicating the second stance and look up.

Without saying anything, he pointed at the wall with the one glowing circle behind him, Jain nodded, he was smart enough to understand what the wall meant without Jaune saying anything.

Suddenly he perked up and asked, "You don't want to give a try to learning the stances?" He seemed almost scandalized about Jaune's anti-enthusiasm. Jaune waved him off, "I would prefer if you showed them to me afterwards, you're a better teacher than some statues, "He looked at the aforementioned items, standing proud and majestic, "no matter how aesthetic they are."

No more words needed to be said, Jaune sat down to wait while Jain swiftly moved through the moves, he was no amateur after all. He could comprehend basic things almost instantly, to the point where he was done in what seemed like five minutes.

During this time Jaune had pulled out the compass to see if it would have any reaction to the wall, the results were, disappointing, maybe the compass was only a key to the front door.

The wall crumbled and broke away the same moment Jain finished the last statue. Showing a typical blocking stance, just with a bit more complicated footwork that would allow for higher mobility after a successful block.

By the time Jaune had stood up and dusted himself off Jain had already entered through the new opening, causing it to instantly reform, all the blue circles becoming devoid of light and colour once again.

Jaune face palmed and swore,"God dammit." Then he walked over to the entrance of the room, where the first statue was and tried to imitate it.

Sword held forward, tip raised slightly above the navel, knees bent, feet contorted into a position that would allow one to immediately jump into any direction. The basic stances present here all seemed to have the same philosophy, the philosophy of mobility that is.

Contrasting to the sword style of the Arc family, Arcs were Knights, so they used a shield which caused them to have a certain, lack of mobility. So, of course, Jaune would find it harder to learn it than Jain. This combat style actually suited him more than the defensive one of the Arc family, He wasn't a Knight after all.

The fact he was learning the moves of a slightly differing sword philosophy than the one he'd been learning for many years didn't make the fact that he took at least ten times as much time as Jain to finish the obstacle irk him any less

He was sweating and huffing by the time he finally managed to make all the circles light up, who would have thought only standing there and holding a sword in different positions would be so exhausting.

The moment he entered the hole in the wall he was hit by the destruction of the room they were now in.

They being Jaune, Jain and four wobbly looking skeletons holding up rusted swords, empty eye sockets blazing with an eerie light and looking like they would fall apart any second now.

Jain turned to him, lazily batting aside the attacks of the skeletons and spoke in a thoroughly bored voice, "Good you're here, I saved one for you, I think you're supposed to kill it with the moves you learnt from the statues."

Swiftly killing three of the still attacking skeletons he ran towards the adjacent wall and jumped onto it feet first, sticking his sword inside of the wall, probably between some cracks, he sat down on it. The weapon barely even bending under his weight.

Jaune scoffed, "Show-off." Before he turned towards the remaining skeleton that had just seemed to notice him. Oddly enough it took on a defensive stance, even though most of the time monsters were the first to attack.

Jaune surmised that he was the one who was supposed to initiate. Pulling himself into the already almost forgotten first stance leisurely, the thing wasn't moving after all. Then he suddenly lunged forwards, his calf muscles creaking in protest. The skeleton blocked, sword held horizontally from the ground.

Almost instinctively, Jaune switched over to the second move, a kick to the stomach and a lunge to stab the now floored opponent. The skeleton dodged the stab, sprang up and counterattacked with a diagonal downwards slash causing Jaune to slip into the third move, a block, almost identical to the one the skeleton himself had shown mere moment ago.

After the block, Jaune sprang forward to cut at the skeleton's ribs, the fourth move. As expected the 'match' ended in nine moves from the mage, the nine moves he'd learned in the previous room.

Jain spoke while slowly cutting his hair, it had probably gotten to long and had annoyed him in the fight, if you could call it such, "Pretty neat huh, first the theory then the application before one has a chance to forget it."

Jaune had to nod in agreement, it was an effective teaching method. He already found he had a better foundation than before. Astounding after spending as little as two hours attaining such.

He still had to pout though.

"Yeah, but," he threw his arms up in frustration, "Where are the cool moves that shake mountains and split oceans."

Jain laughed.

* * *

 **The arc is coming to an end.**

 **Or more like the first book, a few more chapters and it's done reaching a staggering word count of 60k. Which is longer than many novels. Sadly I don't get paid for this. Well not in money. I get paid in improvement. And I think I did improve quite a lot.**

 **Lately, I've been working on the starting chapter of arc two, which hasn't been easy.**

 **This is also the reason this chapter took a bit longer, though that is also because I released a Harry Potter one shot which in hindsight. Isn't especially good. But I won't bother taking it down since there might be one person who would enjoy reading it and honestly that's enough reason not to remove it.**

 **Also you can write me to dispute the fact of my improvement and why you think so.**


	11. Chapter 11

**chapter 11**

 **Edited by: ShadoWwhat; Talon Searunner**

* * *

Walking ahead, the duo didn't find anything of note, except of course the various murals and paintings on the walls. After a while Jaune had gotten bored of just being a glorified torch and had also started to pay more attention to the art pieces surrounding him.

The motifs were not angels and demons anymore, now the scenes seemed to depict the rise of what could be called a rudimentary civilisation. Of course it was illustrated from the viewpoint of a swordsman who only focused on the swords, forging methods, and new enemies to cut down. This left the rise of cities, with progressively modern architecture shaded with muted colours, relegated to the background.

"You know what's weird," the swordsman said. The glorified torch turned to Jain and shook his head, curious "We haven't once seen a depiction of a Grimm,. The humans on the murals have fought demons, dragons, animals and even themselves, but no Grimm."

Jaune froze in his tracks and couldn't help but blurt out, "They're implying that there was once a time without Grimm!"

The swordsman shrugged and urged him to go forwards. From this point on Jaune paid close attention to the paintings, probably even closer attention than Jain, as he really wanted to know when the Grimm appeared.

After a bit more walking, humanity in the pictures having developed fairly well to this point, the first Grimm appeared. A dragon type Grimm, something Jaune had never seen before.

Backtracking he found no clue to where it came from. Jaune sighed, he guessed he was expecting too much, countless people have been trying to find out where the Grimm had come from, countless had failed. It was very unlikely that he would find the answer in pyramid dedicated to swords that had even been explored at least once before.

Not feeling up to wasting anymore of his mental power on the murals, he continued onwards paying only a little attention to the order in which new Grimm appeared; Deathstalker, Nevermore, Creep, geist, and so on. Sometimes the Grimm would fall over a village or town, decimating it.

All from the view of the swordsman fighting against it of course,. Sometimes when the Grimm horde seemed particularly large, there would be a depiction of a white skinned woman with black veins on her face, hovering over the Grimm. Maybe a symbol of the destruction they brought?

Before he could waste any more thoughts on the symbolism, Jain nudged him and pointed forwards. After looking, Jaune ascertained that yes, there was a big hole in the ground, which seemed to be the only way forward, since behind it there was only a solid wall.

Jaune turned to the Swordsman, "You think it's ok to throw an arcane bolt in there?"

Jain seemed to mull over it and then nodded. Jaune took is a the approval it was and charged up another ball of his signature spell, which was coincidentally also the only one he actually knew whose effects were clearly visible.

Speaking about visibility, the arcane bolt fizzled out the second it passed even slightly into the hole in the ground. Jaune furrowed his brows, he hadn't actually created a failed arcane bolt in months. He sighed, thinking that those days were behind him, he guessed they weren't.

Throwing down another one, this time carefully constructing it, he determined that there was nothing wrong on his part, the magic just fell apart after passing through the hole.

He turned to the other explorer, "Do you think we should go in blind, or do you have a different idea?"

Jain pulling out his sword was answer enough. Jaune readied himself to jump into the hole after Jain, but scuttled back surprise when the Swordsman simply swung his sword and fired a lance of light into the darkness revealing its contents.

"You could have warned me." Jaune grumbled halfheartedly but was more focused on the revealed contents of the hole which were, in this case, approximately a hundred statues.

His brow twitched, "You have got to be kidding me." meanwhile Jain looked like a kid whose parents owned a candy story and had allowed him to clear it out while they left on a romantic honeymoon.

Jaune followed the Swordsman, who had already jumped down and was taking a closer look at the statues.

There were nine on nine rows of them, 81 poses in all their glory, put together very orderly. The stances of the statues all seemed to flow together as you walked down the line, Jaune noted, bringing the movements together he figured out that every row of statues represented one big movement.

Ignoring the whooshing Jain was making as he followed the first row of statues, his body contorting and blade swinging fluidly, Jaune looked for the exit. Seeing a wall with nine blue circles that had yet to light up on it he dejectedly went over to the first row, pulled out his sword and after shouting at Jain to not leave him behind this time, went to work.

It was, exhausting, in a way that sparring wasn't. Fighting was instinct, raw unrestrained need to live. Learning however, was more complicated and took much more dedication, you needed to pay attention, you needed to contort your muscles slowly. Rigorous was the word that came to mind.

It was also liberating. Doing something, that you know could save your life in the future gave a feeling of contentment. Almost addicting, you knew you had done something. You could finally rest, do something fun, enjoy life knowing that you had done all you could.

At the moment however, Jaune didn't feel particularly liberated, or content. He felt more along the lines of completely exhausted, fatigued or maybe even corpse like.

He had overtaxed his body, that was obvious, but they simply didn't have enough supplies, or in other words, time, so that he could leisurely go through the nine movements.

It had all been done in one sitting. When he was halfway through, Jain had come over to help him, being finished himself. But that didn't make it any less tiring, just easier, the pieces of advice the swordsman threw out occasionally really helping it bring to a point, that he would always be, at a certain disadvantage when it came to following the way of the sword.

But that was okay, that would just mean he would have to put in four times the effort that an equally old swordsman, or knight put in. And stats, he wouldn't be needing those, he had magic. And for those geniuses, who were talented and also trained as much as him, he would just watch down upon them from his place on the mountain of Levels.

Jaune knew what he wanted to do, or at least one small part had been uncovered in this journey, he wanted to experience things nobody else had, wanted to visit places that had not seen a human in millennia, maybe ever. Most of all, he wanted his strength to grow alongside these experiences.

"Every Journey you take, is but a page in the book of life, every experience you make, but a word, try to make a book, that you can be proud of." Jaune felt the tugging inside his mind, the skill shared dreams bringing about the quote that had just slipped from his mouth.

"That's a philosophy to live by if I ever heard one." Jain muttered as he stood up and held out a hand, which jaune gladly accepted to pull his semi rested body onto his feet.

Jaune answered, "It is isn't it?" Walking towards the last statue in the last row, he finished the movement causing all the blue circles to light up.

Entering the next cave Jaune felt something wash over his head, like an egg being broken, and the reassuring presence of the Swordsman beside him disappeared.

Drawing his sword Jaune entered a ready position and spun around quickly to determine if there was any threat moving towards him, to high strung to activate his sensing skill. He could only perceive the numerous mirrors he was now surrounded by visually.

The mage in him, who had devoured many books, suspected what was coming next, after all, the main purpose of mirrors was to reflect. So when a body fell down from the ceiling only to right itself up and give him an exasperated grin he already had his greeting on the ready.

"Hello Jaune."

The doppelganger replied, „Hi there."

Then, they just sort of looked at each other, both of them wondering, am I really that gawky/scrawny.

Honestly, looking at yourself in a mirror was fine and all, but truly seeing yourself, without being aware what your body was doing was a weird experience.

As he let his eyes roam over himself, and wasn't that something that could be taken out of context he noticed one important thing causing him to sigh.

The hands of his were in a room full of mirrors after all, weren't shaking from exertion like his were. His body still hadn't recovered from the ordeal of the 81 statues.

Now this could either mean one of two things, the reflection had access to high quality alcohol, which according to different sources helped with shaky hands, or, more likely he was a reflection of Jaune in what would be his peak condition.

The mage really hoped his reflection was simply drunk.

Jaune grinned, "I'm not drunk you know." Jaune cursed. Of course the reflection could follow his thought process, but he could also do the same.

"How does it feel like being a copy that will fade away soon?" The face of the reflection lost its smugness and gained a sinister edge to it.

"How do you know that I will fade, maybe" he pointed his finger at him, "maybe you're the copy."

The original shook his head, "I know I'm not, your mind games are weak." Reflection shrugged and waved his hands dismissively before saying.

"You have to admit it was worth a try."

Jaune chuckled and loosened his body, maybe this fight wouldn't be so bad, "You know, the fact that we're the same person means we have the same sense of humour, just hope we won't crack the same jokes."

The reflection shrugged, before reluctantly admitting, "That would be, boring I admit, but let's slowly get to the fight, hmm."

Jaune quickly said, "Wait, before that, I want to know," The reflection looked at him, waiting, "Are you my evil clone or something, or what is this stage."

Reflection looked thoughtful, "I guess I should tell you, the person I hold dearest in the world is myself after all, even if myself is someone else at the moment." He waved his hand at the mirrors.

"These aren't the first mirrors that you have encountered in the pyramid,." Jaune's eyes lit up in realization and he urged the other him to continue. The flash after the first door they'd encountered had broken apart under the effect of the compass.

"Well, in that brief second, the power commanding this place created me, I am the version of you, before you entered the pyramid, so therefore, I do not know any of the skills that you have learned here." Jaune hummed and asked.

"And what if you beat me?" Reflection grinned.

"Funny that you ask, if that were to happen you would die, and I would walk out of here. The new Jaune, and you know what," The Reflection leaned in, for the first time looking truly evil, „Nobody would be able to tell the difference."

At that point, Jaune decided that he was done with talking, listening to his reflection, the stakes were higher than originally thought.

If he was telling the truth that was This was himself he was talking about after all. Due to the fact his body was fatigues he couldn't go on the offensive, so he put up his sword in a defensive position and waited.

And waited.

The reflection was seemingly taking his time, leisurely drawing its sword and slowly forming two arcane bolts over its shoulders.

That was the moment Jaune noted the thing that would decide the inevitable fight. Stamina. The reflection was made when he had just entered the pyramid, therefore it should have an unhindered body, while he himself, was tired down to his bones.

By the arrogant grin on the reflections face he knew that as well.

Think Jaune think, he would have to go on the offensive, that was a given, the reflection would just stand there and wait for him to tire himself out with the simple act of standing if he did nothing.

But all his moves were transparent, he had to surprise the enemy. That was all it was in the end, another enemy. But how exactly could he surprise himself, the thought process was identical.

That was it!

Randomization. He was going to have to attack randomly, unpredictably.

Not giving himself any time to think Jaune jumped forward and slashed at his grinning reflection. An arcane bolt whizzing towards his face made him roll to the ground, sword held aloft as if not to stab himself. Not bothering with making his own bolt and trying not to think much about what he was doing, he swept his right leg at the reflections shin causing it to step backwards abruptly a now cautious look on its face.

"So you came to the same conclusion," it scowled. "Foreseeable."

Another arcane bolt came hurtling at him before he could fully right himself up, its owner following closely behind, sword raised. Logic dictated that he stay on the ground and try to roll away.

Jaune dictated otherwise and threw his sword at the reflection, while slightly bending his body to dodge the bolt by the smallest margin.

The move caused his tired body to collapse on the ground, but not before sending an arcane bolt at the reflection that was already busy dodging the sword.

The magic found its target, smacking the reflection in the chest knocking it back. Not willing to lose his momentum Jaune crawled forward at a speed that would make every baby weep in jealousy and latched onto the falling reflections leg. Drawing the knife he had on his belt he swiftly and brutally lodged it into the first place that came to mind.

And Jain had said he shouldn't bother looting the creeps.

"Motherfuc-." The reflections words were halted by a pair of hands suddenly appearing around his throat, and the sharp pain coming from its behind.

Whilst choking himself, Jaune tried to knee the downed reflection between the legs as often as possible, in the process jostling the lodged in knife and causing enough pain to interrupt the casting of any type of magic.

Slowly the body beneath him stopped struggling and Jaune watched the light fade out of his eyes, turning dead, body limp. Was that what it would look like when he finally died?

The adrenaline dissipated and his body collapsed onto the ground as the reflection shattered into thousands, millions of small light fragments disappearing into the surrounding mirrors.

Jaune rolled onto his back, still breathing heavily. The fight, if you could call it that, had been short, but brutally intensive.

Jaune knew himself, that he had never before been attacked by a rabid human who was deciding all his actions randomly. Therefore he knew that it was the most likely way to victory against himself. The odd thing was though that his reflection hadn't anticipated that. Maybe they weren't truly the same after all.

Lying on the ground, the mirrors slowly started dissolving around him, collapsing into small glittering lights and flying away revealing the familiar grimy walls behind them.

Not having anything better to do, body still to tired to really move, he thought about what the challenge had actually been about.

It was probably supposed to be some sort of proof that skill mattered more than stats, which was inspiring in a way, it meant there was still hope for Jaune Arc the magical swordsman, if it wasn't for that swordsmanship learning blockage that was.

The usual swordsman capable of reaching this pyramid, had a physique that would only be mildly inconvenienced by the training one had to go through to get to this point. The mirror imagine would be more fresh, but also less skilled. The skill difference would in the end prevail and the swordsman would come out with new confidence.

Sadly Jaune wasn't a swordsman and had finished the ordeal feeling as if his entire body had been put through a grinder, Jain however would most likely be in perfect shape, not bothered at all. The bastard hadn't even seemed to be sweating after imitating the hundred statues.

Of course that was the moment Jain walked into the room that had fully lost its mirror particles, as if to further prove his theory completely unharmed if a bit winded by his strong breaths.

He looked around, as if to make sure that there was no one else here, then he concentrated on the mage who was cleaning the ground with his clothes.

"You still alive? the task was annoying, since the other me knew all my old tricks, but it was pretty easy in the end."

Jaune couldn't find enough energy to open his mouth, but he was perfectly capable of pulling in four fingers and giving Jain the middle one.

After a few minutes Jaune finally managed to gather enough energy to pull himself up, not into a standing position, but thankfully there was a wall nearby which granted him support to rest his back on.

Jain's words were hard to make out because of the blood flowing in his head, caused by pulling himself up too fast but he managed. "I imagine your fight was harder due to the fact you have no constitution and were more tired after the statues due to that fact." The mage in question managed to raise his hand to give a thumbs up.

It was always jarring, to Jaune, that other people also had perfectly logical thought processes. It was completely opposite to the assumption that you were the only real human in existence and everyone else was a cheap caricature.

Suddenly a thought struck him, how did he know the Jain he was talking to was the real one. Well in the end it didn't really matter since they were both the same person, but he was still curious. Before any thought process could take place he blurted out his question.

"Are you the real Jain or the reflection?" Jain gave him a queer look, halting all movements, narrowing his eyes.

Almost urgently he asked, "What do you mean?"

A bit scared of Jain's scary face he quickly explained how his doppelgänger had told him that the winner of the fight would be the one walking out of the pyramid at the end of the day.

Jain after hearing this visibly relaxed and laughed. "Oh man, you really have hit rock bottom when you lie to yourself."

At Jaune's enquiring look he elaborated."Well, no matter how impressive this pyramid is, I know for a fact it has nowhere close the power it would need to create a fully functioning human being. Didn't the reflection break apart into floating lights after dying?"

He shook his head and further proved his point. "If it was really just another version of you it would have also been made out of flesh and blood, not what basically amounts to magical energy."

He gained a curious glint in his eyes. "The only thing I'm really interested in was why it would lie to you." He looked at Jaune.

Jaune shrugged, but inwardly he was thinking.

Why would he lie to himself, that was the question. There were many solutions, his copy hadn't had a long time to think, maybe a few hours if it had started intelligent thought the moment it had been copied in the first chamber, therefore the first conclusion he came to would be the most likely.

Jaune turned the problem around. If he was a clone, whose death was set in stone, what would he do before dying. What would he want to do.

Help the person who he cherished most in the world of course, help Jaune, the help the clone could give was limited, they had the same knowledge and experience base.

At best it could give him a new experience, which was also very limited by the environment, it struck him like always, suddenly, harshly and painfully.

The best thing, the only thing the clone could reasonably give him before disappearing was the experience of fighting with his life on the line. Unleash the inner beast so to say, so that next time, Jaune wouldn't hesitate, just observe that he was in mortal danger and attack.

Fuck.

Jaune sighed and leaned back thinking of anything to do, he wished he was a smoker at some of these points, he'd heard it was fairly distracting and pulled the mind away. Alcohol wouldn't be bad either.

Not having any of those Jaune rummaged through his pack, pulled out a water canteen and started drinking and afterwards eating to replenish his energy.

Jain, seemingly not interested in any further conversation, took a piece of blackbread and was munching on it while looking at the surrounding walls. Which were, surprise surprise also covered in murals.

He had a thought, how were they conversing while seeing each other, how was Jain looking at murals if Jaune was not there to create a light with his arcane bolt.

Looking around frantically he discovered. And what a grand discovery it is, that the ceiling was glowing with the natural light of the sun.

Go, detective, Jaune, go.

Before he could embarrass himself any further, he stood up on his protesting legs and followed the swordsman who was already distancing himself slowly towards the unknown.

The further in they got, the brighter the light coming from the ceiling became, it was like there were clouds gradually floating away from the sun letting it reveal even more of its glorious light.

Suddenly the corridor came to a stop, flaring out into a spacious room, an empty one, containing a single door. A great dome like expanse up above generating untold amounts of light, so much Jaune had to cover his eyes.

He couldn't help but voice his thoughts. "This looks suspiciously like the room before the boss, where we are supposed to rest and make strategies before entering." Musingly he looked around the circular room the walls depicting some scarce paintings, "If I'm not mistaken there might even be clues on how to defeat the boss on these walls," he turned to Jain, "What do you think?"

Jain nodded. "I would have to agree with you, it does feel like we are close to the end, we should study the paintings more closely they might offer a clue as to what expects us behind that door."

They both nodded in agreement and started to study the paintings in a circular manner, Jaune started on the left, Jain on the right.

The paintings were not very pretty, but they brought their meaning across clearly. A challenger would approach a master, the master was the same one that all the statues had been made after. The fight started, an hourglass appeared over their heads. Once the hourglass ran out.

The challenger vanished. Like he was never there in the first place. The master went into a resting position, presumably until another challenger approached. When he was done studying all the paintings that were, humorlessly enough, done like a comic, Jaune noted he had come to the door, signifying that his study was over.

Looking at Jain he had also came to an end. Jaune spoke.

"According to the painting we will have a time constraint while fighting a construct or a man, who looks like the statues," he shook his head, "I don't know how long we have, all the hourglasses look different. However, if it wasn't simply a metaphor for the time limit there might be a magical construct of the thing hovering over our hands reminding us how much time we have left."

Jain chuckled, "How generous, and also stressful I can imagine." The swordsman waved in the direction of his progression of paintings. "I conclude that the more time we take, to beat the old man, or to gain his acceptance, whichever is needed, the paltrier the reward." His eyes glinted greedily, "However, if we succeed fast enough, our rewards will be much greater."

He suddenly sat down and pulled out his sword, laying it across his knees in a delicate manner, "I guess it's time to make a plan now."

Jaune nodded in agreement and sat down as well listening to what Jain had to say. And he had a lot to say.

"From the paintings we can assume that our enemy will be a humanoid wielding a sword, I also suspect that he will only use the techniques the statues themselves have demonstrated up to this point,the best strategy would b-.."

* * *

 **Two to three more chapters in this arc, after that I'm considering going on break until the start of next year. I already have two chapters of the next arc written up, but I'm not sure about the quality and the plot has yet to solidify.**

 **Working on an original story as well, which is kind of confusing, since I now have two protagonists that have different mindsets and I have to differentiate between them.**

 **I really liked the idea behind the fight of two Jaune's I hope everyone else enjoyed it as well.**

 **We will see.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

 **Edited by: ShadowWhat; Talon Searunner**

* * *

Carefully entering the room where Jaune assumed they would face their final obstacle. The mage was surprised to find it empty, almost surprised enough to drop the arcane bolts he was holding on too.

Almost.

Not able to bear the silence, he commented, "Seems empty." He looked around again to confirm it. Nothing here, just untold amounts of dust, which was weird, considering there had been none before.

"Not entirely empty," Jain waved his sword in the direction of one of the corners, where after concentrating hard the mage was able to discern a pile of rags.

"Should I blast it?" Jain tilted his head, thinking, then nodded.

The arcane bolt, packed with more power than really needed made a hollow sound as it struck right through the pile instantly turning it into dust and hitting the wall behind it.

Jain scratched his head, "Could be that the boss wasn't able to weather the power of time, if it was an automaton it would make sense for it to run out of gas sometime."

Jaune couldn't help but ask, "Gas?" Jain seemed startled that he had used the word. Then hummed.

"It's a type of fuel source, what I'm saying is that the construct ran out of magic."

Jaune nodded.

"Could be, no magic lasts forever." he looked around the room, swords depicted everywhere. The thought, especially magic created by swordsmen, went unsaid. He looked around the room again, no way to go forward in sight.

He sighed, "Technically speaking, if there is no more magic, then the entrance to the next area won't open." They looked at each other. Then Jain shrugged.

"Just blast it?" Jaune stroked his chin and answered.

"You know, I like the way you think." Spreading out his senses to the maximum, he was easily able to find where the entrance was, mostly due to the fact the space behind it was empty, which was a pretty big giveaway.

Tapping the wall to conclude, like his senses had already confirmed, yes, it was several feet thick. He turned to the swordsman.

Gesturing to the wall behind him he spoke, "This here is the entrance, I don't have enough firepower to blast through it, so just use some sword attack." Backing away as to not be hit by the consequent 'wall breaking attack' he watched as Jain walked up to the wall, drew his sword.

And anti-climatically, slowly, stuck it into on the the cracks. Jaune rolled his eyes at the theatricality, and as expected the sword started to emit a greenish glow.

The blade was corroding everything around it, and a few minutes later the wall was no more. Walking over its remains Jaune grimaced over the green goo that was splashing around on the floor. Following Jain, he noted that the torches were still working, despite the boss being unavailable. You had to have your priorities, after all.

The walk was serene, no murals to fawn over, though some anticipation in the air, they were about to enter the treasure chamber after all, presumably. Maybe a treasure chamber would be too greedy.

This was an educational building in the end, at least that is what Jaune had concluded. Or likely a museum of swordsmanship.

Treasure was debatable, considering these facts. It was probably just some more advanced sword techniques in the form of statues.

The thoughts made his surprise even more evident when he entered the last room, only to find it empty.

Well not entirely, there were some stone tablets on the ground, and a few rusted swords strewed about, but otherwise there wasn't much to see.

He vaguely heard Jain curse behind him as he stepped forward to examine the stone tablets, there seemed to be some words written on it. Sadly, in a language he didn't know. By the way the dots and lengths were curved towards the right and then towards the left after every paragraph, it was most likely Old-Dil.

He sighed, an extinct language, but there were definitely ways to translate it in the capital, probably in the capital library. Could be useful, you never knew.

Jaune rummaged through his pack for some paper and coal. Swiftly putting the words to paper, he stashed it away and wandered over to Jain, who was rummaging through the pile of rusted swords angrily, flirting with tetanus.

"Nothing worthwhile, I guess?" Jain shook his head causing Jaune to sigh, as expected. They weren't the first people here, and why would their predecessors leave anything valuable behind?

Walking around the room, he noticed a slight vibration from his pocket, his heart froze for a second wondering what it was, then his face spread out in a grin.

Laughing out loud, he turned to Jain, "Don't give up yet! The compass is reacting!" Jain looked at him confusedly but then also smiled when Jaune pulled out the sword needle compass. The sword was spinning at a very fast speed.

Jaune was almost afraid it would fly away, the spinning becoming faster and faster. Not able to hold it any longer due to fear of injury, he set it on the ground in the middle of the room where it stopped spinning and sat there.

Jain walked over to look at the thing over his shoulder. "Seems inert." As if to contradict his words, the thing glowed brightly and started shaking, causing the stones making up the room to vibrate in place.

Just as Jaune was about to suggest that they run, fearing a collapse, a few stones in the wall closest to the compass fell out, revealing a small space inside of the wall.

Rushing over without thinking, Jaune used his senses to discern what was inside. A chest, although he wasn't able to feel inside of it. Pulling it out swiftly he tried opening it, but failed.

His excitement finally dying down, he laid it on the ground for Jain to see as well. It was a plain thing, made out of brown lacquered wood, with a simple latch on the front, the latch that he had previously tried to open.

Squatting down beside him, Jain stretched out his hand towards it muttering, "Let me try it." After some fiddling the latch sprung open. It probably hadn't worked for him due to the fact he was a mage, the box was most certainly meant for a swordsman.

After opening it and seeing what was inside Jain froze up. Wanting to know what had him so surprised, Jaune looked inside as well. Only to see an oddly glowing crystal orb. He didn't know what its function was, but it certainly felt powerful, he didn't even need to use his sensing ability to feel it.

Jain suddenly spoke up in a solemn voice."Jaune, this is very important, we need to never speak of what we found here." He took the orb into his hand and held it up reverently, almost lovingly. "If others find out we had access to this," he gulped, "it's over."

The mage nodded solemnly at the serious atmosphere."I will listen to you on that, but what is it?" He looked at the thing curiously.

Jain rasped out," A memory orb, a skill only available to ascended people, or terrifyingly powerful magicians. They store experiences inside of it, you can 'enter' the orb, and witness the events from the eyes of the person living it. You can feel everything as if it was your own body."

Jaune's eyes widened, "And since it's in the Sword Gods Pyramid, this orb," he looked at it, trying to contain his greed, "might contain memories of the one known as the sword god."

Jain nodded," Yes, and I don't think I have to explain how useful it is for the development of a skill, if you can experience even a minute of someone higher leveled at it than you using it."

Jaune sighed,"You use it," Looking at Jain's surprised face he shrugged," I led you here to repay my debt, it would be weird if I insisted on taking the reward." Unseen to Jaune, the hand that the swordsman had been inching ever so slowly towards the sword retreated back to its original position.

Jaune gained a contemplative look to his face,"It is only for one use isn't it?" Jain nodded and answered,"Yes sadly, unfortunately the thing drops like loot from your body after death if you use it, which is why I don't want anyone to know about it."

"I understand, it's not like I came out empty handed though," Jaune clenched his fist, "I can feel myself being close to a level up of my swordsmanship." Noticing Jain wasn't even properly listening anymore he sighed.

"Just use the thing already, get it over with."

Jain nodded in agreement.

Putting the orb before his head he said, "I won't be courteous then." He tapped the orb lightly onto his forehead, causing the magical artefact to disappear, and for his body to crumple to the ground unconscious.

"Sad I couldn't use it myself," Jaune muttered to himself, "But he'll get more results out of it." Suddenly he started moving towards the corner where the tablets had been stored and pushed them aside. Tracing his finger along the ground he slowly and carefully edged it into a crack and pulled out a stone.

"But I still have this." It was a hidden compartment he had noticed with his dimensional comprehension while examining the tablets. Due to the fact it was very well hidden, and Swordsmen like most melee classes had no sensing ability, (except detect bloodlust and sixth sense which were only useful for fights, but fights only), there was a big chance that the compartment had been undiscovered by all who came before him.

Reaching into the hole he pulled out the book which he had sensed previously, and muttered to himself, "Now what do we have here?"

A skillbook, but there wasn't any discernable difference to normal books, you just knew. Like the tingling at the back of your head when you were using a skill, or the head splitting pain when learning a new one.

The title was unoriginally named 'Swords'. How... creative, Jaune thought to himself. Maybe it was simply the branch of magic or skills that this book belonged to. A skill simply named swords would be too vague and broad to actually specify anything.

But before he opened it, he found himself hesitating. Was it the correct choice to open it? He didn't know how skillbooks functioned he was worried would end up using it by just looking at the first page. Behind him he saw that Jain was still in dream wonderland. He sighed and flipped to the first page, where there was indeed a skill listed, with a name that told the user what kind of skill it was.

"Sword return" It seemed pretty self-explanatory. It returned a sword to its user. How, he didn't know, a strange skill. Undoubtedly useful if used correctly. He licked his lips in anticipation and then froze, his face scrunching up in confusion.

Wait. How do you use a skillbook? Maybe, just, read ahead? He flipped to the next page.

Empty. Next one, empty. Jaune frowned. With the reasoning that the skill was meant to end up in his head at the end, he lightly held the book to his forehead. That's when it started dissolving almost making Jaune panic before he got himself under control.

The pages were rustling like there was some invisible wind moving them about, the book slowly started to disperse into small lights, flowing to his forehead where they gathered in a big ball. When the book had fully dissolved, the sphere of purplish light paused for a moment and then faster than Jaune could follow disappeared into his forehead.

The pain was, honestly not as bad as he'd expected. Enough to have him writhing on the ground clutching his head while the magma settled into his brain, but he'd had worse. Once it was finally done transmitting something, that could only be compared to a soothing rain washed over his overheated brain.

Chasing away all thoughts giving him the peace of mind to inspect his new skill. As expected it returned the sword of the wielder in his hand if he were to lose it.

Now the question was, had it worked?

Well, Jaune drew his sword, there was only one way to find out. He threw the weapon aside, it clanged on the walls and fell to the ground.

Then he activated sword return, and he felt, with his dimensional comprehension, how the sword disappeared from its lying position.

And reappeared in his hand.

Sheathing his weapon again, Jaune stood up and turned around to look at the dishevelled looking Jain, cringing at how bloodshot his eyes were. His shabby appearance in great contrast to the huge grin on his face. It almost looked like his head was being split in two, causing Jaune to raise an eyebrow.

"I assume it was an," he looked at Jain again, noticing the change of his posture, more straight with the arms hanging languidly at his sides, his right one stroking the sword pommel, "illuminating experience."

Jain chuckled and agreed, "Quite. Also while I was experiencing the memories, I found the perfect sword style for you. I'll show it to you later." He looked around the gloomy room, now that they knew there was no treasure here anymore, it looked even more hollow and grimy than before. "Let's get out of here first. I want to sleep in my tent and by the tiredness I'm feeling it will be night soon," he looked down at the spot where he had absorbed the memories, "lying on the floor isn't really a comfortable experience."

As they were walking back towards the entrance, Jaune kept pestering the swordsman about his experiences with the orb and whose memories he had absorbed until his companion relented.

Jain grimaced and started speaking, "The memories in the orb belonged to one Kelayak Arkos, a knight in the times of some war," At Jaune's confused look he shook his head, "Never heard of him either, he must have been famous back in whatever time he lived in if he was ascended, but time has the habit of grinding away even the most memorable events."

He continued while waving his arms around enthusiastically, "Well that's not important. The events he included into the orb was basically how he fought in a war," he shook his head, "I don't even know why they were fighting, but the war was brutal and so was Kelayak's swordsmanship."

"It is an undebatable fact that the man was a genius, but the way he swung his sword was just unsightly. All efficiency, no finesse, the only thing Kelayak seemed to be able to think about was going from point A to point B in the quickest and least demanding way possible, which makes sense, since battles can take quite some time and you need to conserve energy."

"I didn't really learn any fancy techniques," at Jaune's doubtful look he added, "he had them, but he preferred not using them, a testament to how much better he was than anyone else, sadly there are only memories of him before he ascended."

He fingered the pommel of his sword again, "I didn't really learn much of what to do, but I have been," Jain grimaced as if the next words hurt to bring out, "enlightened to some mistakes I have been making in the way I fight and use the sword."

Jaune, meanwhile, was deep in thought. He knew he had heard the name Kelayak Arkos before, he was sure of it, but he couldn't remember where. He shook his head it wasn't that important.

Jains story sounded, well, 'interesting'. He had expected the orb to grant some amazing skills, since it did stem from an ascended, but apparently it had only helped him shore up on his basics. Which was perfectly fair the basics were the foundation of any fighter.

That's why they were the basics.

But Jaune knew that would have been pretty disappointed about the lack of earth shattering skills.

Jaune suddenly halted and held his hand up to stop Jain in his tracks, before this one could say anything he put up his finger to his lips, the universal sign to be quiet. They had been nearing the exit of the pyramid, but he had sensed something that didn't quite fit.

Crouching down he extended his senses. They were close enough to feel the campsite that they had left behind. Their former campsite that was. It seemed to have been infested with a few people who really shouldn't be there.

"There are people in our campsite," He scrunched his brow and tried to discern more, "Don't know if they're friendlies or enemies, they are armed."

Jain scratched the back of his head, seemingly unconcerned, "Any heraldry you can make out, flags, colour of tents?" Jaune shook his head in response, his skill didn't let him make out colours, only vague shapes.

"No flags, all I'm able to make out are their shapes." He was getting worried, with their only way out being blocked by who knows who, and his tiredness, the situation was starting to look grim.

The swordsman grimaced as if agreeing with him, "They are probably enemies, trying to rob us after we come out." He gained a curious look on his face, "maybe they are even from Sanshu, and followed us here."

Jaune glanced at him, "I thought the people of Sanshu thought this place was just a myth?" he asked.

Jain sneered.

"They only say that to make themselves feel better about the fact they were never able to find it. Most adventurers in the town are those kind of failures." he said causing Jaune to think for a moment.

"Could be that they followed us here somehow, after all you seemed pretty fed up with trying to find the pyramid, yet you set out once again with a new person in tow, they might have thought you would finally be able to find it."

The swordsman barked a laugh, "More like we stumbled upon it." Jaune put his head in his hands.

"Please don't remind me." But he grew serious again after these words, grimacing, "What exactly are we supposed to do here?" He reached out with his senses, "I feel four people, but a rogue might be using a skill that makes him undetectable."

Jain waved him off, "First try to discern their weapons, we need more information if we want to make a plan with any chance of success." Jaune nodded in agreement, sat on the ground, and focused on his ability, giving regular updates on their position while trying to make out any weapons.

A few minutes later he stood up again, "One mace wielder in what looks like semi metal armour, two guys with swords, one with a bow, and the rogue came into range, has two daggers." he looked worryingly at Jain, "What are we supposed to do? We're outnumbered, and I'm not really, uhm, the most useful in a fight against adult adventurers."

Jain waved him off, "Don't worry about it, the solution is pretty simple." Jaune perked up, hope in his heart. If Jain was this confident, maybe they would survive this after all!

"We run away faster than they can catch us."

Maybe not.

Jaune queried further, "Can you elaborate please?" Jain stretched his head in response and answered.

"Well, If we run, I'm confident we can leave behind at least the mace wielder, he is most likely a blunt weapon specialised warrior." He shook his head, "I don't believe he will have many stats in agility, therefore if we run long enough we will only be dealing with four people, not five."

"If they're actually hostile and will chase us." Jaune added, causing the swordsman to shake his head at Jaune's optimism.

Jaune opened his mouth again, "Also one thing you're forgetting, I'm not nearly as fast as you. Hell," he sighed, "I'm probably slower than that warrior."

Jain grinned sinisterly, "Don't worry about it, I have a plan," he looked around the barren corridor, " but first let's get some rest."

* * *

Boring chapter if you ask me, I think the next one though, will interest more people.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

* * *

Jaune hit Jain's head from his position of clinging to the swordsman's torso, much like a monkey, causing the swordsman to throw himself in a forward roll. This caused Jaune's stomach to almost rebel. Again. While in the air, he aimed another arcane bolt at their pursuers, more specifically the slower one of the two swordsmen.

The man was actually fat. Absolutely revolting for an adventurer, he watched mockingly as the arcane bolt hit his knee causing him to stumble once again. The Rogue, Archer and other Swordsman not bothering to pick him up this time.

They had probably realised it would only lengthen the chase. And what a chase it was.

After resting sufficiently in the pyramid, Jaune had found several traps at the entrance-slash-exit of the building, mostly tripwires bound to rocks and oddly shaped bells. There to alarm the enemy that they were exiting the pyramid.

Thankfully his dimensional comprehension had helped him sense them all, allowing the two a head start in this race.

Jaune had been clinging to Jain's front at the time, so that he could throw some magic at the eventual pursuers, which had given him a prime view of the half asleep Rogue, who was holding watch, to startle from his weariness and call out his comrades yelling at them that their targets were escaping.

The first pursuer they'd lost had, as planned, been the warrior with the mace that he had scouted out the night before. His heavy armour, heavy weaponry, and lack of agility had caused him to fall behind fairly quickly, cursing all the way.

The second had been the fat swordsman Jaune tripped up moments ago. Just goes to show that being older (and most likely higher levelled,) didn't necessarily mean one was more useful in a fight.

The only ones left chasing them now were the trio of; Swordsman, Rogue and Archer. The Archer would occasionally jump into the air, transform into an eagle, transform back and fire an arrow at them midair.

The Swordsman seemed like he was the leader of the group, taking point, dodging any and all arcane bolts with apparent ease.

He also had a striking resemblance to the person who had jeered at Jain in the adventurer's guild.

What a coincidence.

The mage fired another arcane bolt at the Rogue who somehow simply blurred over it, the magic missile not even causing him to slow his pace.

Jaune muttered into Jain's ear, "They all dodge my magic, they will catch up soon." The only reason they hadn't caught up already was due to the fact they had subconsciously slowed themselves down to stay in line with the recently dropped fatty.

Humans were pack animals after all. Especially petty criminals. As planned beforehand, Jain started decelerating once they came into sight of the next oasis. Finally coming to a stop sword raised, mage still clinging to his torso.

The lead swordsman halted as well, causing the rest of his goon squad to settle themselves standing behind him and trying to look menacing. "So you finally decided to stop running heh," he leered at them. "Well after all the trouble you put me through, I definitely won't let you leave alive." He gained a mockingly thoughtful expression to his face," But if you hand over everything willingly I can give you a swift death."

His words gave Jaune enough time to crawl down from his perch and start beating the blood back into his numb legs. He didn't know why the man was even trying, if you told people you would kill them no matter what, every sense of negotiations would be thrown out the window immediately.

Jain started speaking and Jaune spread his arms disarmingly to provide the fitting hand gesture, Jain couldn't after all, he was holding his sword, "I'm sorry to disappoint but we didn't really find anything in the pyramid, I hope you understand, it has been here for quite a while and it gave a pretty well looted impressio-"

Before he stopped his words he darted forward at the Rogue standing behind The Swordsman, Jaune refused to refer to them by their names. They didn't deserve it. The Swordsman had however at no point in the conversation let down his guard, so he was able to parry the attack. His glowing sword apparently a defence against Jain's acidic properties.

The Rogue went into stealth, and the Archer knocked an arrow, Jaune meanwhile lifted his hand holding the arcane bolt that he had briefly held into the sand letting it explode upwards covering everyone with a fine layer of sand.

The stealthed Rogue included, well the not so stealthed Rogue anymore, He had been maneuvering into a position behind the now madly clashing Jain who was exchanging sword strikes at a pace almost to fast to see. Jaune not being the only one to think so by the look of constipation on the enemy swordsman who was steadily being driven back and was clenching his teeth violently.

Throwing himself to the ground to avoid a hail of arrows Jaune also drew his sword and rushed towards the Archer, gaining precious seconds as the robust but unshaven looking man stared at him confusedly. Jaune was wearing a hood after all, they couldn't see his class. He was sure that the man knew intellectually that he was a mage, that didn't stop him from being confused why a mage was running at him sword drawn though.

But you weren't able to be an adventurer if you were as incompetent as to simply let someone close the distance so easily, the man gathered himself reached into his pouch and threw a few serrated looking caltrops onto the ground. Immediately afterwards he was knocking an arrow that was emitting an ominous glow.

Jaune didn't particularly care, he had steel greaves on after all. Firing an arcane bolt at the Archer the man grinned and shot his arrow as well, the trajectory going right beside the bolt set to hit Jaune in the torso, what he hadn't taken into consideration though was the bolt swerving and colliding with the arrow causing it to use the skill it was embedded with prematurely causing a small explosion of wind knocking up sand. Creating a natural smokescreen.

Jaune immediately threw himself to the left hoping to avoid a follow up arrow only for the expected projectile to fly directly at him, as if the Archer was in no way impeded by the bad visibility, thankfully Jaune was able to deflect it and roll out of the way of the one coming after. And the one after that.

This wasn't working, running in circles around The Archer who was occasionally even shooting at the fight between Jain and the other two stooges, all Jaune could do was not get impaled.

Throwing a few arcane bolts at the crouching man he hoped to close the distance while he dodged but The Archer simply leaned out of the way and zoned him again. A stalemate. One he wouldn't win, Jain was outnumbered two to one with the occasional arrow headed his way. Crouching to the ground to dodge another arrow that would have penetrated his eye if he hadn't bent down to start crafting a sand filled arcane bolt with his left while launching another one at The Archer with his right.

By the condescending way the man was looking at the sand bolt he probably had a skill that let him see through such obstructions.

A loud curse escaped him though when Jaune turned around and hurled the bolt at the struggling Jain who was slowly being pushed into a corner by his two foes.

"Sand!" Being the only one familiar enough and used to Jaune's skillset Jain prematurely closed his eyes while his enemies were shortly blinded. Jaune used his entire concentration to sense what was happening in the sand cloud of his creation. He shouted out, "Hip, left elbow." His efforts were rewarded by the cry of the Rogue who had ducked right after being enshrouded by the sand, and who, after Jain had heard the mage's cry, had stabbed the man right into the gut.

Jaune's efforts were also rewarded with a dull thump, as an arrow penetrated his left wrist, which he had raised in the last second to defend his head. Once again focusing on the now incensed archer, he managed to block another three arrows with his magic before jarringly and suddenly he was made aware of the fact he had no mana left.

"I'm throwing you." The words almost didn't penetrate his pain addled mind, and he didn't understand their meaning until he felt a familiar hand wrap around his leg and lift him up, quite uncomfortably he might add. Jain struck aside a volley of five arrows and the sword slash of the other swordsman by the time it took Jaune to blink. Then he spun once and hurled the mage right at The Archer whose eyes were slowly widening in incredulity.

There was only one problem, Jaune had lost a hold of his weapons while being thrown, he wasn't done though. He had a new skill. Focusing on the thread connecting him to his dagger he pulled on it, the sword would be to cumbersome, the dagger appeared in his palm in a stabbing position. Almost like it knew what he wanted, no, had to do.

Flying through the air took less than a second, and he had the time to see the horrified wide eyed look of The Archer before his body collided with him, dagger first. The man had an arrow knocked, but Jaune managed to use his bleeding hand to push it away as to not get impaled, while his other hand, holding the dagger he somehow managed to keep a hold of while flying, lodged itself directly into The Archer's eye, causing them both to tumble over into the ground.

After he had managed to untangle himself, now not with only a pierced though wrist but also a broken ankle he managed to sweep his eyes towards Jain only to see him almost casually loop of the head of the last remaining bandit. Then the image was destroyed by Jain collapsing onto the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

"Jain!" by the time Jaune had managed to crawl over to his friend, the teen had already steadied himself into lying position, assuring Jaune that at least he wasn't dead. Arriving at his side he looked at him worryingly, "Are you ok." Jain's sweaty face grimaced and he spit out some sand before wheezing out.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, didn't even get scratched, just stamina is in the dumpster." Jaune gazed critically at his body, and upon finding no sign of wounds he relaxed.

Which made him able to concentrate in the arrow sticking out of his wrist, he didn't feel any pain oddly enough, only shock.

Muttering, "I hope he didn't poison his arrows." Jaune crawled over to his dropped bag and pulled out some bandages, when he caught the site of The Archer's corpse, lying there, with a dagger sticking out of the head. His thoughts abandoned the bandages immediately as he bent over and vomited on the ground.

Once that was out of the way he shakily noted that Jain was staring at him. Looking hopefully at his older partner he asked.

"Any advice," the words caused Jain to sigh before he grimaced.

"He wanted to kill us, try to come to terms with it," he chuckled and looked away, straight into the sun. "They cycle of life and death continues, we will live, they will die."

Jaune sat next to the oasis, occasionally dunking his non injured arm into the water to refresh himself. Waiting for Jain to finish looting. Thinking about life. And where to put his stats. After coming down from the emotional high of killing someone and the adrenaline crashing, he had noticed that he had gained two levels.

Two!

It was an amazing growth, only possible by killing someone much higher level than you. Which brought its own moral conundrum. He imagined there had been many before him who had considered becoming bounty hunters after experiencing, well the experience. But when you killed other humans for simple profit. What happened to you? What changes would one go through?

The mage couldn't imagine they would be good changes.

He was confused, mad, and sad, all at the same time. Why would anyone try to murder a fellow adventurer for loot? Jaune could justify sins such as omission, envy, and maybe even theft. But murder?

His turmoiled state of mind was not made better by the fact that his wrist was throbbing painfully.

"I think it's your lucky day." Jaune looked up, torn from his thoughts that were running in circles. Only capable of answering with a.

"Huh?"

Jain lifted a piece of chainmail. "One of them had this on him, it's an Artefact, I said I would give it to you if we chanced upon one."

Jaune hesitated for a second then took it into his hands mumbling a thank you and inspecting the thing. It was non reflecting reflecting, but that was it. Still good though. Might save his life one day. He hesitated, was it really okay to put on a dead man's equipment not even an hour after he was killed?

He put it on.

"I'll be gone for a sec Jaune, can't leave loose threads." Jain said, causing Jaune to stare at him for a moment, before he grasped his meaning. The man was standing next to the pile of loot that they had gotten and was checking all of his weapons again. He hesitated before asking.

"Can't we just let them be?" Jain shook his head, Jaune did too a few seconds later. The two remaining members of their ambushers would hold a grudge, it was better to, dispose of them now. It would not do to risk them coming again, this time with a few more friends.

Jaune looked at where they had run from, the path was most likely covered with arrows and footprints leading right to them. He wondered why The Swordsman who had been lagging behind had still not arrived. Maybe he'd gone back to get his warrior friend so as not to get ambushed alone.

He stared worriedly at Jain, would he be okay against two people? Jain had proven that he could outrun them, but. You could never be sure. In the previous fight he had also fought two at once. But it had looked like a losing stalemate, one he had had to resolve. He couldn't trust chance.

He stood up after adding two points to agility, being fast was important, and called out to Jain who had left him stew for a few moments and had started burying the three corpses. "I'm coming with you." Receiving a doubtful, and also weirdly proud, look he warily helped dig the shallow grave and started planning on how to take on their remaining foes with Jain.

As they trekked backwards, to the first arrow sticking in the ground, Jaune turned to the swordsman and asked, "So what's the plan exactly?"

Jain in turn gave him a sidelong glance, "What plan? When we find a suitable ambush position we sit down and wait, if we meet them beforehand we fight." The words earned a sceptical gaze from the mage, whose eyes then turned to the arrow standing proudly in the sand.

They had walked away from the scene of carnage so as to not scare the incoming enemy away, if they saw them semi unharmed. Well, Jain was unharmed, Jaune was hobbling due to the broken ankle and his left wrist was basically useless. If the enemy saw them, they might run. They didn't want the same situation to be sprung on them while chasing after all.

Jaune narrowed his eyes at the arrow, it was telling him something, the shaft was oddly thick. Maybe the wood in Vacuo was too brittle so they had to make it larger as to not break on impact? The mage suddenly grinned and turned to Jain.

"You know, I think I have an idea."

What the hell was taking the pair long, every part of his body was itching due to the sand and he wasn't allowed to move, this could be a form of mild torture. Surely he had been waiting for at least an hour, the wood in his mouth was starting to feel soggy, preventing him from sucking in as much air through the slowly closing hole, as he did in the beginning.

Soon enough he would just have to get up and make another breathin-, there, the targets were in sight. Well in sense. The mage kept grumbling in his mind as the two people kept coming closer and closer to his position. They suddenly startled. They had probably caught sight of Jain who was laying on the ground, holding a sword in his armpit, which from a distance made it look as if he was stabbed through the chest.

They drew their weapons finally allowing Jaune to discern the slightly blurry signatures, he would go for the one with the sword, he was fairly certain that the mace wielder had full armour.

As expected they walked the most direct route towards Jain, right over the mage buried in the sand. The foot of the fat person landed on the sand covering Jaune's stomach almost making him cough. But he held on for just one second before he raised his right hand out of the ground, dagger at the ready and cut into the heel of The Swordsman's right leg. It was easier than expected.

Like most people traversing the desert he didn't have proper boots, instead he wore shoes that only reached to his ankle and the rest was taped off with bandages, or ripped cloth.

After what he had just done Jaune was pretty sure he was sticking with his greaves in the near future. Before the two figures could even think of retaliating, Jain had used the distraction of a sudden attack from underground to get up and lunge at the now flailing swordsman. The tip of his sword entering directly through his neck into his brain.

The attack sequence was planned out, The Swordsman, no matter how fat and incompetent, was the greater threat to the buried mage. He could simply stab downwards after regaining his bearings and give Jaune a hole in his body that he really didn't need.

While the mace wielder could use a high impact skill to batter the ground, it was unlikely he would do so since there was a very not dead, very fast Jain coming after him. This of course wouldn't have worked if Jain was incapable of one shotting the enemy swordsman, but his partner had assured him he would manage.

Jaune felt hazily how Jain after pushing aside the now dead enemy engaged the mace wielder who was cursing so loudly even Jaune could hear him. And he had sand in his ears!

Losing the concentration it required to use his dimensional comprehension at a high enough level to understand people's ever moving coordinates, he dropped the dagger in his hand and fired off an arcane bolt at the now retreating warrior. After which he lost all capacity to keep his sensing active and started to bury himself out of the sand.

It was easier than getting in there in the first place, an experience he refused to even think about. Turning to the fight between the two melee classes he was just in time to witness Jain trade a painful looking blow in the ribs for a stab into the eye slit of the other man's helmet.

Jain looked like he was fine though, he did have a combination of leather armour and chainmail after all. After loudly coughing once, the swordsman crouched down to take a closer look at the now dead man.

Ding ding! Jaune had gained another level.

Looking at the corpses of those who had facilitated the level up, he didn't really feel all that elated. His plan had succeeded making him feel, proud of himself. He tried steeling himself and failed. He just sat down and looked at the rough palms of his hands. He had always had a few calluses from sword training.

But now his hands were covered in blood, grime and sand. And more than a few scratches. A hand suddenly landed reassuringly on his shoulder causing him to look up into Jain's face.

"I'm proud of you, I know it's a deed that you don't necessarily want praise for, but you did a good job." He cracked a grin. "Hell I'm even starting to think you're some kind of genius."

"I'm fucking retarded." Jaune commented as he stared at the gaping wound of his wrist, the wound full of sand. Not that anyone could hear his comment. Jain was happily looting and setting out all the equipment from the bandits they'd killed. Ignore their actual classes, Jaune just referred to them as bandits. It made him feel less guilty.

Sighing he once again dunked his head in the water and sucked up the liquid until his cheeks bulged, then he spat it out in a concentrated stream at his wrist once again washing away some of the sand grains. Shaking at the pain he sighed and repeated the process.

Once done he stood up, making his ankle that was now properly bandaged flare up in pain. Hobbling to Jain who was looking appreciatively at the items stacked on the ground in a orderly fashion he asked. "Why bother, we won't be able to take it all with us anyway."

Jain waved his concerns off though, "If it's orderly I can look at it better and decide what's worth taking and what not." His question answered, Jaune once again sat down on the ground and looked at his level up, assigning the point to agility he took a look at the two available skills. Then looked contemplatively at the equipment on the ground.

One of the skills that he had access to due to the level up was named inventory, he had foregone getting it back then in the fishman dungeon, because it didn't offer any chance of escaping alive and had taken dreams instead. Which had turned out to be the correct choice, even if he refused to use the skill now that it wasn't necessary.

Inventory was an extra-dimensional storage space used to store items.

Non-living and non magical items that was. Everything else disrupted the matrix, apparently. Maybe he would be able to store lower levelled creatures and magical items at the later ranks.

But the skill was definitely useful multiplying the resources one could bring to an outing by at least ten. Also removing the problem of always being a bit tired due to lugging around a pack full of supplies.

The other skill was dimensional anchor. Jaune didn't really have to think much about the decision. Dimensional anchor infected an object or being with its magic and hindered all tries to move through space and time with skills.

The uses were limited, maybe it would stop people from using the weapon summoning skill that he also had. But inventory just sounded better in the long run and looking at the pile of not so bad equipment that they would have to leave behind it was also more useful in his current situation.

The choice was clear, he sat down and picked inventory. The knowledge bombarded his head and set alight his mana in a painful manner. After some research he now knew why. Every spell was a complicated rope so to say, a rope made out of uncountable little mana strings. No, calling it a rope was a disservice to its complexity, it was a tapestry.

His body and mind were basically being injected with the knowledge of how to use this one spell on an instinctual level. The terminology that he had come up with also explained how people could learn to use a few simple spells like candlelight and water condensation without the help of skillbooks or the natural order. He would have to look into that once he arrived at a place with the corresponding books.

Walking over to his pack, one that Jain had brought over from their camp in front of the pyramid while he had been 'injected' with his new spell, he bent over and picked it up.

Then he tried to open the inventory, which didn't work. He willed it to swallow the pack and he sensed an invisible hole opening up and to use the crude term, try to swallow the pack. But it failed.

Jaune furrowed his brows. Had he been deceived about the capacity of the inventory. The natural order didn't lie right?

He pulled out a nail and willed it into the inventory, this time it worked. Maybe it could only swallow one item at a time. He willed it to regurgitate the nail and it was spat out once again into his hand.

After a bit of testing he found out that he could only use the skill with his hands, which was disappointing, that he couldn't rank it up, which was expected and that he could decide how to pull out the items, which was nice.

Suddenly having an idea, Jaune pulled his sword free of its scabbard and let it disappear. Then he put his right hand to his open mouth gripping within and opened the inventory to take a hold of the sword grip. Then he bent his head backwards and slowly pulled it out.

"What the actual fuck." Jaune almost coughed, which wouldn't have been a good idea considering the sharp edge so close to his mouth, he quickly pulled the sword out and sheathed it, blushing.

Jain had apparently come back from getting the last of their things from their campsite. And was looking at him weirdly.

Deciding to speak he controlled his blush and awkwardly looked at the swordsman, "It's a new skill I have, it lets me open up a storage space for items." Looking pointedly at the pile of equipment on the ground, of which none was suited for him he tried to make his point clear.

Jain's eyes lit up with happiness," Great, that means we can bring all this stuff with us!" Jaune breathed out in relief, it seemed his impromptu sword swallowing performance had been forgotten.

"And keep practising that sword swallowing move, preferably in front of a mirror. Try to make it as creepy as possible, it could be a useful intimidation factor." Jaune sighed. It was a good idea, but, way too embarrassing.

But Jain wasn't done yet," Just don't do it in front of people with a questionable sexuality, they might, get the wrong idea."

Jaune's face blushed bright as a tomato, "Jain!"

* * *

 **End of this arc**


	14. Chapter 14

**Editor: 5th Dimension**

 **chapter 14**

* * *

Jaune shot up gasping for breath, sweat staining the sheets. The same nightmare that had been plaguing him for the last month or so echoed in his mind: the faces of the men he'd killed, or helped kill. They always asked him why, for which Jaune had an answer, but they never stopped asking anyways. Always whispering. Screaming.

It almost made him regret what'd he'd done, regret ever leaving his house in Aschen on that one day to wash his clothes and ending up in the dungeon. Almost. It helped that the most horrific nightmare he'd had yet had been of a scene where Jain and he had lost.

An image of his rotting corpse lying in the sands, getting baked by the sun. All useful equipment stripped from him and flies coming and leaving as they wished in his mouth and nostrils.

He sent out a searching hand towards the floor next to his bed, and fumbled around a bit before finding a bottle. Bringing it up to his mouth, he took a few gulps of the burning liquid to distract himself from the dream he'd just had.

Grimacing at the taste, he discarded the empty flask into his inventory; he'd throw it away later. Preferably when he was actually near something resembling a trash can. The bare room he had rented from one of the cheaper local inns didn't possess such a commodity.

The second time he'd woken up screaming, he'd considered using his shared dreamscape technique to run from his fears. But he wasn't willing to risk his life or sanity simply to accommodate his fears with a sense of escapism.

He tumbled from his bed, matching the grace of a hamster who'd been put into a sock and spun around, he dragged himself to the communal bathroom.

He started the daily ritual of brushing his teeth with the plants he'd used quite some lien to buy. Then started doing his facial musculature training, teaching himself how to smile, look perverted, be intimidating, and much more. After that he practised theatrically pulling his sword out of his mouth.

Jokingly, he pulled it out of his butt once.

Jain had suggested that he learn that move, after all. Before he'd left that was. The mage had gotten used to the other teen's presence, and him suddenly being gone was… jarring. They had spent nearly half a year together after all.

He seemed pretty rushed when he left, leading to a short farewell in which neither of them decided to be overly emotional. The last thing Jain had done had been to press a money pouch into Jaune's hand, containing enough lien to last him a year, as long as he was frugal enough.

That wasn't even mentioning the equipment from the dead bandits that he still had stored in his inventory. He couldn't really sell it in Sanshu out to fear of being prosecuted for the killings.

After washing the dried sweat from his body he looked into the mirror one last time. The bags under his eyes were retreating. Good, the nightmares had gotten less frequent after all. His once-blonde hair was bleached to a more straw like colour, and it looked thinner and more brittle.

Nothing he could do about that. He was doing quests outside everyday, so he was never really not getting exposure to the sun. And when he wasn't questing he was training. He'd managed to raise the level of his swordsmanship, which he was quite proud of.

Well, the term questing was saying a bit much. Jaune was only taking missions to patrol the town border and pick some herbs, after all. He'd been confused at first as to why a request to pick herbs was listed in the adventurer's guild. But as it turned out, all of the herbs had medicinal properties useful to adventurers. The quests were a way to get young adventurers familiarized with plants that could one day save their lives.

And of course to give them some pocket change. Maybe even some EXP, even if the only Grimm one encountered so close to the town were low level and stupid enough to get near a human settlement with a guild.

Rushing down the stairs he greeted the innkeepers daughter, Joy, only to be ignored in favour of some older, more buff guy. Huffing and leaving slightly disappointed, he stepped onto the streets. She was pretty, but seemed the type to chase after social status. Which Jaune didn't have.

Remembering to fish out the bottle of alcohol he'd previously emptied out of his inventory he chucked it into a nearby trash bin.

-/-

"Aren't you a beauty." Jaune looked closer at the opium poppy he had plucked out of the ground. It had a particularly big crown. "Yes you are."

The opium poppy was generally used to create painkillers, often given to soldiers and heroes sent on suicide missions to make them fight longer.

A sad flower. He laid it in a now full satchel. He had taken the quest to gather a hundred of these flowers, which was quite hard when you considered their scarcity.

Maybe it was only scarce because it was always plucked before it could fully spread its seed? He shook his head. They couldn't possibly be that stupid. Leaving the beautiful place that he had only learned of recently, he amused himself by running his fingers through the tall grass and throwing a few arcane bolts into the small lake.

The purplish bolts exploded underneath the surface and created small geysers.

Looking around the semi-lush surroundings one last time, Jaune wondered once again how such a place could exist in the desert. Maybe natural, or maybe magic.

The whimsical thought of how to create such a lively environment in the desert and what skills you would need to do so accompanied him back to the adventurer's guild, where he handed in the quest item to Mina and received his reward of ten lien.

It wasn't a fortune, but one could do a few of these simple quests a day, which would then be enough to live off of. The negative side being, of course, that you had to work seven days a week.

"An escort mission just came in. You said I should notify you." Absentmindedly glancing at the clerk while considering how to properly introduce foreign plant life to the desert, he bid her to continue.

Mina frowned slightly at his hand gesture and kept explaining. "The lady is staying at the Blossoms Inn and would like to speak with the adventurer before accepting his or her protection back to Brorusalem." Jaune's eyebrow twitched and he shuddered.

He knew the name. After all, it was the second largest city in Vacuo, home to its library and arena. But still, Brorusalem…?

Not wasting anymore thoughts on the strange name, he enquired about the woman's name and profession.

He made his way towards where his potential client was staying.

The talk might not be as dull as expected. He'd never heard of the tattooist class before.

-/-

"Aren't you a bit..." Emanon gestured at Jaune, probably at his height. He was, after all, only tall enough to be at eye level with the breasts of the twenty-something-year-old woman.

But he wasn't one to be intimidated by people not accepting him at first glance. He hoped at least. Raising one eyebrow, he asked, "A bit what?" She gestured at him again, looking like she was seeking words.

Fed up with her gesticulation he held up a hand that silenced her. Jain had been right; a big part of being authoritative and confident was acting like you were, and going from there.

"I'm sure that we will have an interesting talk about qualifications, age, and the fact I'm not tall enough to maintain eye contact without craning my neck." He looked pointedly at her chest again, which was displayed prominently with a tank top that also showed off her fairly muscular arms, which were covered with all kinds of dark markings.

He watched almost entranced as one of the painted-on hands swept a few strands of her otherwise confined hair behind her ear. His gaze wandered back to her eyes to see that she had noticed him looking at her in what must have been slightly dazed manner. His neck was cramping from looking upwards so much.

"Come on, let's get a table somewhere and talk things out," he said hurriedly as he walked past her into the inn, trying to suppress a blush. Trying being the key word.

He felt her shuffling behind him, long legs allowing her to walk leisurely while he had to take long strides to stay in the lead. He scouted out a cut-off table with his dimensional comprehension, then walked towards it without hesitation and took a seat. He waved Emanon to sit down as well.

Which she did with a bit of a grin on her face. Holding up her head with an arm, she leaned towards him, inadvertently letting him gaze into her decollete.

"You know, I like men who can take control of a situation," she said. Jaune remained unaffected by the sight and her words; a month of sleep deprivation could do that to anyone. He narrowed his eyes. Something was off about this person.

"Well, good thing I'm not a man then." He pointed his hand at himself and exclaimed almost proudly, "I am a boy."

Emanon laughed a not very ladylike laugh. The tattooist looked over him again. "You're what, twelve?"

Jaune rolled his eyes and corrected her. "Thirteen actually, not that it matters." She waved him off.

"You're right, it doesn't matter. Well, I like your attitude. Most adventurers seem to think that just because they escort me to some place, they gain some..." Her eyes gained a cold glint. Jaune shivered, despite her being a civilian. "...privileges."

That was a weird implication, would heroes really…?

Jaune sighed, remembering the bandits that had tried killing him and Jain. There would always be people like that.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he did what his family preached: 'Don't be an asshole of an Arc.' Grandpa, did you actually say something normal, ever?

"Then I apologize on behalf of all combat professions."

Emanon looked surprised, then smiled and said, "Thanks, even if you're not responsible."

Jaune looked at her deeply from behind his ruffled-as-usual hair. "If someone from a group of individuals you belong to does something untoward, it simply means you have not exerted enough influence to make all even slightly displeasing behaviours..." He frowned. "...inadvisable."

A clap resounded as Emanon slapped her thigh. "You read Stone's works as well." Innerly Jaune was surprised but kept a calm countenance. He had grown up among a family of women, so he knew that if he let his face slip up now, Emanon would probably think he was doubting her ability to read.

He just knew it.

She kept talking, "You have, haven't you." Her eyes glistened as she asked, "What's your favourite quote?"

Jaune paused. He had read Stone's works, but he had found the man to be detached and clinical. His works made humans out to be a simple result of their psychology and outside influences, oftentimes mocking humanity for its flaws and refusal to work at them in a weird blend of psychology, philosophy, and cultural dissertations often based on human biology.

Most of the things he had read had flown over his head at the time, and Stone's thought processes had been too detached for him to review his works all over again once he had gained the sufficient understanding. Maybe he should. The gray wasn't so black and white anymore, a notion that Stone had repeated at every opportunity. According to him it wasn't even about colors; he just hated metaphors because they could never be completely accurate.

According to him, the world was simple cause and effect.

Emanon was still looking at him, waiting for his answer. Weird, she didn't look like a person who would embrace that particular philosopher's ideas. Women mostly didn't. He racked his brain, trying to remember a quote that he had really liked.

Ah, there it was.

"I'm not the biggest fan, but something that has stuck with me ever since reading a few of his books has been, 'You may not be rewarded for hard work, but without hard work there will definitely be no reward.'"

Emanon grinned at him brightly and said, "You're hired." Jaune did a double take and then leaned back, rubbing his suddenly throbbing temples.

"You know, my preference on philosophical texts doesn't actually have an effect on my combat ability!" he exclaimed incredulously, causing Emanon to look at him in confusion.

"Why does it matter, I thought you wanted the job?"

Jaune nodded at her words. "I do, but I don't know if I can trust an employer who makes decisions so lightly." He shook his head, causing his his hair to whip about. "After all, flighty people aren't the most reliable."

After all, you never knew when someone unpredictable would stab you in the back.

Emanon leaned back into her chair, putting her arms behind her head as she looked at him expressionlessly, drawing his eyes to the drawings under her armpits. Was there a piece of her body that wasn't used as a canvas? And what was the function of those drawings? If it had been a part of Vacuo's fashion, Jaune would have heard about the custom from his sisters.

Emanon spoke deliberately and clearly. "I do not need someone who can defeat an army on his lonesome. I need someone who I won't hate spending my time with." She raised her hand to halt any interruptions. "The road between here and Brorusalem would take a month to traverse. The area around the road is regularly cleared by the emperor's army. At most, you will have to dispose a few weak Grimm that the army is paid to let through to force merchants into hiring adventurers. Which-"

She looked pointedly at Jaune's well-worn sword that he had laid next to the table and his bulky torso, covered as it was by chainmail. "-is something I think you are perfectly capable of."

Jaune shrugged. "Ok."

The woman to raise an eyebrow and asked, "What, no more arguments?"

Jaune waved the words away. "You convinced me," the mage said and followed up with a question. "When are we leaving?"

-/-

Jaune heaved another crate into Emanon's wagon, cursing as another splinter bit into his skin. He turned to the woman who was working beside him, annoyed. These crates always seemed to be filled with heavy things.

Bottles of different coloured liquids, needles, and one which just had a bunch of drawings in it. Probably the tattoo designs, something which he had enquired about. He wondered why anyone would brand their skin like that, though. Sure, it looked nice. But what if you decided you didn't like it one month later? It wasn't really easy to remove.

"Couldn't you afford better crates?" Jaune showed her his hand, which was looking more and more roughed up by the second. The tattooist looked at him oddly.

"What better crates?" She asked while lifting the last one onto the wagon.

"You know, made out of better wood, so it doesn't splinter so easily." The mage raised his hands in exasperation. It's not like better ones would cost much more, and they would last longer as well.

"It would cost too much, importing that kind of wood from Vale or Atlas. It would cost at least ten times as much." She looked at him queerly. "Not really something I can afford."

Jaune scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. He had probably gotten a bit carried away, annoyed by the pain. He hadn't even bothered to think about the fact that not everyone had the money to buy things just because they wanted to.

Nodding once, he went ahead to the front of the carriage, throwing a mistrustful glance at Emanon's camel, Humpy. A glance that it returned. He swung himself into the driver's seat and waited for Emanon to join him.

Once she did, they set off. Jaune couldn't help but use his sensing on Sanshu, a place he'd lived in for a month and that he would probably never visit again, until it left his range.

Watching absently and occasionally directing the camel, he noted how the woman sitting next to him pulled out a pipe stuffed with what he assumed was tobacco.

So she didn't have enough money to afford better crates, but she had the money to buy something like tobacco?

He didn't say anything. She was his employer after all. He would probably never see her again after completing this mission.

After a few hours of looking out at the road and deciding that no, they weren't going to be jumped by a rabid pack of Grimm anytime soon, he extended his senses fully, pulled out a book, and started reading.

He felt Emanon glance over curiously once, but she didn't say anything, so he just ignored her.

It didn't take long until he felt a lone Creep advancing slowly towards their wagon. Putting his book down so that he could use dimensional comprehension to its full potential, he sensed around to find out if the Creep was a distraction.

Since there were no others present in the area, he assumed it wasn't. He pursed his lips. There shouldn't be any reason for such a small Grimm to make it onto the road.

Maybe there was merit in the thought that the adventurers' guild let them through on purpose.

Angry now, he didn't hesitate to send a powerful arcane bolt at the Grimm as it came into view. The bolt flew through the air, whistling all the way and hitting the Creep head on, disintegrating it instantaneously.

"Nice shot," Emanon said while looking over his shoulder and puffing a cloud of some weird herb next to his face. The smell wasn't unpleasant. He guessed it wasn't tobacco after all.

"Thanks."

-/-

After some thinking he decided that from an adventurers perspective, it did in a way make sense to let weaker Grimm near trading routes. Trading routes meant heroes, occasionally young heroes.

And young heroes needed experience, both literally and metaphorically. He imagined the people responsible for that were not entirely unhappy about the fact it also forced merchants and travellers to hire heroes, which added to the adventurers' guild's revenue.

Hitting the pommel of his sword against the last stake he drove it firmly into the ground. With a grunt he stood up and looked over his handiwork.

A shoddy tent, noticeably of cheap origin, sticking up from the sands, next to a wagon with a camel tied to it. A Bactrian, as he'd found out from Emanon, distinguishable by the fact that it had two humps.

Camels, adaptable creatures. He'd learned a few things about them from Emanon today. Like the fact that they had three eyelids and two rows of eyelashes, to prevent sand from entering their eyes.

He rubbed some sand off his face.

It was getting windier as the sun set. He looked towards the orange hues as they became one with the desert, the sun sinking lower and lower.

He'd once thought that the sun would be gone forever. Back when he'd still been a child, he had told his sisters not to worry. Assuring them that one day he would become a powerful enough mage to make it appear again. Or if necessary, create another one.

Thinking for a second that maybe his next gesture would be too childish, he hesitated. Then he decided to act like the child he still was. And hell, becoming an adult didn't mean giving up on doing fun things.

He raised a hand to cover the sun, then closed his fist around it until it finally set a few minutes later. His powers were more suited to making things disappear after all. Even if he stashed away all the equipment he wouldn't be needing in the night, those things had the tendency to come back.

Maybe one day he would know a spell powerful enough to swallow the sun. Wasn't that a thought.

A thought he dwelled on for maybe to long before he finally knocked on the door of the wagon.

"Are you finished up with your mixing?" Some banging, loud curses, and crashing, thankfully not the smashing of bottles, were his answer.

Emanon had also explained some things about her profession to him after he'd asked. He had been curious about what being a tattooist entailed, mostly because he'd never met one. He'd been disappointed to find out it basically entailed the mixing of ink and applying this to the skin of humans in aesthetically pleasing designs.

He wondered if there was a higher level to it. Blacksmiths and other creating jobs had the power to make artefacts and items so well-made one could almost mistake them as being magical.

The door opened and Emanon poked her head out, hair settling gently around her like a halo. "I'm done. What's up?"

Jaune raised an eyebrow at the expression. He hadn't heard of the phrase 'what's up' before. Would the answer to that really be what was up? In this case the sky. Unlikely, the mage thought to himself.

Therefore he pointed behind himself and said one simple word that made almost all people smile.

"Dinner." While setting up his tent he had set up a small fire pit and had started to roast a few pieces of meat, vegetables, and bread on a skewer.

He was thankful that he would always have that luxury, thanks to the fact that food put in his inventory didn't spoil.

And as expected, Emanon's eyes lit up, making her seem even more beautiful. Jaune shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts. It was just his biology acting up. Gathering himself mentally he watched as the woman jumped out the door and scurried towards the food.

Sniffing the air, he did note that the smell was quite appealing.

They didn't talk much as they ate. Jaune was busy thinking about combat applications of swords intertwined with the interrupting factor of an available inventory and Emanon was thinking about… whatever.

Jaune wasn't a mind mage after all. He couldn't read thoughts.

Though from what he knew, mind mages would be quite affronted if you referred to what they did as reading. It implied that delving into the memories and thought processes of another human being was as simple as opening a book and starting to read.

Which it wasn't. Apparently.

Laying back on the sand, the mage considered his future arrival in Brorusalem. He'd heard they had quite the big library, containing all sorts of books, available to all. And who knew? If he snapped up a part time job as a librarian, he could maybe get access to some of the more restricted tomes.

Oh, it wasn't advertised that they possessed them. But everyone knew. And if some went missing for a day or two, only to appear again, a copy in a certain mage's inventory? Well...

He didn't really think they had a way to prove anything. And knowledge was supposed to be free anyway.

He shivered at the approaching cold, getting goosebumps, his hair standing on end. He looked over at Emanon to see the same phenomenon appearing on her skin, making an interesting contrast on her tattoos. He could see she was apparently also feeling the cold, by the way she was hugging her knees, some grease still shining from her lips.

Jaune's fingers twitched. It was his first time spending time alone with an unrelated female. Suffice to say, it was annoying. He felt the need to impress her the entire time, and he couldn't help but find himself looking at some particular parts of her anatomy at inopportune times.

He would read up on basic human biology next time he had access to such books. Maybe it would be less annoying if he knew the exact reasons for such behaviour. And maybe he could repress it. He didn't find the idea of lusting after someone while knowing it wasn't quite possible, or the best idea, to be productive.

And with what he knew from living in a family of seven women, he didn't quite think that a relationship was feasible nor healthy anytime soon.

He shoved the thoughts he was having aside. It was normal to have them during and even after puberty from what he'd read. But they were unproductive.

"Can I sleep with you?" Those words coming from Emanon didn't make the shoving aside part easy, though.

Thankfully he was used to saying no to girls.

"No." By the look on her face, he had gotten quite good at it too. He wasn't daft enough to think she meant sleep as in intercourse. She probably just wanted to share body warmth. He had been surprised as well by the harsh temperatures of the desert. But he had blankets for that.

He didn't need to let another person into close proximity while he was at his most vulnerable. By the offended look on her face he didn't have to worry about being backstabbed anytime soon though. She didn't really seem the type.

But as Jain said, why take the risk?

"May I ask why." Emanon asked.

He thought about her question-statement hybrid for a moment.

The mage couldn't really tell her he feared the small chance that she would slit his throat while he slept and run off with all his things.

Maybe those bandits had hurt his mental state more than he thought they had. That reasoning though, would hurt her feelings and make her dislike him. He knew enough about the vindictive woman mentality thank you very much.

So he said the first thing that came to mind.

"I would have an erection the entire time sleeping next to you and it would be really uncomfortable," Jaune said. Then he froze.

Then Emanon froze. Jaune face-palmed. Emanon laughed. And Humpy bleated.

* * *

 **A bit late, didn't feel like releasing a new chapter without an editor having looked over it. Also having difficulties with the second Arc.**

 **Much thanks to 5th Dimension for helping me with this.**

 **Not much to say, out of practice with writing authors notes for obvious reasons.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

 **Edited by: 5th dimension**

* * *

Jaune lay on top of the wagon that was slowly making its way along the road, looking at the sky. The only thoughts filling his head were about how bored he was. Thankfully they were set to reach Brorusalem in a matter of days.

The books he had purchased in Sanshu and stored in his inventory had been read. Some had been interesting. Some he'd stopped reading after the first page out of disgust.

Then, after he'd read all the books deemed readable, Jaune had gone back and read the ones he'd discarded, thrown away into the darkest corner of his inventory due to their lack of quality.

The discussions with Emanon had dried up. You only had so many conversation topics to go over before you ran out. She'd offered him a tattoo, free of charge. He was considering it. He would have to think of a design that actually served a purpose in combat as well though. He couldn't justify blemishing his skin otherwise.

And removing it would hurt. Cutting off the uppermost layer of flesh and letting regeneration regrow it would be an arduous process. At least for him it wouldn't be permanent. He was also a hero; he could gather enough money to have it surgically removed.

He was suddenly startled by the cry of a bird that flew into sight. A vulture to be precise.

Jaune considered shooting it down with his arcane bolt. With it upgrading to Journeyman rank due to the constant practice, he was pretty sure he could hit the annoying bird. Practice had paid off, and the skill would have probably grown even more if not for his mana restrictions. He'd had more than enough time after all.

Jaune narrowed his eyes as he spotted another vulture, and then another, until finally, he decided to stand up on top of the wagon and take a look in their direction.

"Now ain't that a big flock of birds," he muttered as he spotted a group of at least fifty of the things circling around something approximately a mile away. Occasionally one of the dots would sweep down. It didn't take much imagination to visualize them gripping a piece of meat in their beaks afterwards.

They were carrion feeders after all. It would also explain why he'd shot down more Grimm than usual. Any event that caused such a flock of corpse-eaters to gather would have to have generated quite a lot of negativity.

Stretching his senses and looking around, he didn't see any patrol of the emperor's men riding about. Not weird; he'd only seen them twice in the last nine days, and he hadn't interacted with them once.

Looking at the birds flying, acting as an aerial marker, he considered if he should shirk his adventurers guild duty to check on the spot where the vultures were gathering.

He shook his head. No. There might still be survivors. And he was a hero, wasn't he?

-/-

It was the smell that hit him first. With only a slight wind in his direction, Jaune's nose was assaulted by the stench of rotting corpses.

Jaune steeled himself, forcing down his gag reflex, and walked towards what he now saw was a small caravan that had been assaulted, its members left for dead.

Flaring his senses, he made sure that there were still no enemies in the area. It would be sad if he failed his quest because Emanon was attacked while he was checking out what more and more looked to be the aftermath of a bandit raid.

But no, the only living beings present were the vultures that almost blocked out the sun by this point and occasionally flew down to pick pieces of meat from the corpses littering the ground. Getting mad, he decided to send a few arcane bolts at the flock.

After six of them were shot, the vultures started dispersing. Cowards. Only capable of feasting on things already defeated.

The closer he got to the grisly scene the more likely it became that there had been no Grimm involved.

The Grimm weren't really inclined or capable of rape after all. He grimaced as he came close enough to the first body to confirm his suspicions

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.

After vomiting out everything he had in his stomach, he decided in hindsight that doing that probably hadn't been a very good idea.

No matter how disgusting it was, he grabbed the dead woman by the ankles and dragged her away from the scene. Then he did the same for a few others until he couldn't see any more corpses.

He would burn them later. Somehow.

But first he would have to look through the wagons. Looking at the small pile of dead people he'd extracted from the surroundings, it did seem to be a minimal number for a caravan. He didn't know if he would, or could manage it. He already felt sick to his stomach.

Bracing himself, he entered the first wagon. Finding nothing but a few empty crates and another corpse, tortured this time, he continued on to the others, his anger growing every time. It seemed that the people killed outside had been the lucky ones.

After exiting the third such wagon, he looked around and determined that he had four more to go.

The mage looked down at his shaking hands. He could do this. It was his duty.

...No, he couldn't. He couldn't stand the smell, the sights, and his mind imagining what exactly had transpired. Saying sorry to the people whose bodies would probably be eaten by scavengers because of his weakness, he turned and started running back to the wagon.

That was, until he sensed something peculiar.

A body inside of a camel. Shuddering at the thought of bandits cutting up the body of a camel and forcing someone inside until they suffocated, he still walked over to the dead animal, an arrow lodged in its head. The mage's eyes suddenly glinted after looking over the scene.

The body of the camel was lying next to the wagons. Its belly faced the wooden construction, making him unable to see the cut that allowed a person to be forced inside. If he couldn't see it immediately, what were the chances of some bandits being able to? And why would they bother with inspecting a clearly dead animal?

Which meant the person inside could have entered the beast willingly, to hide from sure death.

Jaune didn't know when he'd started running, but he was. Jumping over the dead camel, he saw the cut along its stomach that he'd expected to see. Pulling open the flap, he found a body inside. Quickly pulling it out, he determined the person was still among the living. Covered in blood, guts, and looking closer, she was missing its left eye, but the pulse he felt from her chest was going strong. That her name and class were displayed completely confirmed that she was alive. May, archer.

Furrowing his brows, Jaune suddenly noted that he had yet to find a corpse that actually looked like a hero. Which brought along worrying suspicions. Putting the clearly unconscious girl aside, he ran back to the rest of the wagons. If one person survived, then the possibility existed that more had.

The only thing he found were more corpses. Disappointed and afraid he would be forced to vomit again, he ran back to May and quickly pulled her into his arms, bringing her towards Emanon.

He stopped caring about the smell, the blood, and the guts. He only cared that he had found someone who had survived.

Coincidentally also the first person he'd ever saved. As long as she didn't die of an infection due to the fact she had spent what looked to be a few days inside the body of a dead animal with several open wounds and a missing eye.

Fuck.

-/-

"She has a high fever, and there's pus leaking from her eye." Emanon grimaced. "It looks infected."

Jaune cursed under his breath. "Do you think she'll make it to Brorusalem?" Emanon frowned. That was answer enough.

Jaune had some remedies in his inventory but they probably wouldn't be enough. He fished out one of his few health potions. It had cost him a lot of lien, even for his standards. The problem wasn't the money though.

If several health potions were ingested in a short period of time, say, a week, they would become highly toxic and lead to the death of the person imbibing them.

It was one of the reasons you generally didn't force-feed potions to unconscious people you found in random places. You had no way to know if they'd taken some before.

It was a gamble in the end. Give her the potion, and risk her dying, Give her the basic non-alchemical treatment he could offer, and risk her dying.

"If she was a grown hero I would treat her without a potion." Emanon glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, arms in her lap, obviously not knowing what to do in this situation. "It's very likely for a high level hero to survive without treatment due to their constitution, and it's also more likely that they have already partaken in health potions before due to the fact they could actually afford them." He looked at Emanon desperately.

He needed someone to agree with him. _Because you want to be able to share the blame if something goes wrong,_ growled a dark voice in his head.

Jaune rambled on as he shakily uncorked the vial holding the red liquid. "But she's young you see, probably my age. She has no access to potions." He gestured wildly at her class. "Look, she's even an archer. Her constitution stat is probably her worst one."

He babbled on nonsensically as he gently pried May's mouth open and poured the potion into her. His pulse calmed down as he gently massaged her neck to make sure she actually swallowed the fluid.

The droplets that were still left in the bottle he mixed with water. He dunked a rag in the water and tried as gently as possible to wash the empty eye socket of the girl. By the way her body spasmed and her face grimaced, he wasn't doing a particularly good job of it. He would have been mad at Emanon for just sitting there… if she hadn't been the one who'd removed the remains of the eye from the hole. She'd had to lift the thing leaking fluids with her fingers and manually cut the optical nerve with a scalpel.

She'd puked after that.

That's when he'd stepped up to continue trying to help the archer. Once done with the cleaning, the wound already looked a bit better. Jaune poured a small amount of alcohol Emanon kept for disinfecting tattooed areas onto the wound. Afterwards he bandaged it up as best he could.

Hell, was this what Jain had had to do when he'd found him stranded in the desert with a stab wound in his gut? He'd make sure to thank him the next time he saw the man.

After taking care of the rest of the girl's body, treating some small lacerations all over her skin, he leaned back and gave out a sigh of relief.

There was nothing more for him to do. He sure as hell was going to take a course on wound dressing when he got the opportunity though.

Or at least read a book about it.

-/-

Jaune was afraid of falling asleep. He had been drenched in nightmares for many days after killing the bandits that had assaulted him and Jain. It had only gotten better recently. And now, Jaune thought back to the scene of carnage he'd just seen, and the young girl whose eye Emanon had removed.

Now, he had new nightmare fuel.

Jaune hesitated. There was a way out of this. He could enter the shared dreamscape. He remembered feeling like his subconsciousness had no effect whatsoever on that place. Which meant no dreams. He would just have to make sure that he didn't talk to any creature that he met. Try to stay invisible, so to say.

He noticed his hands were shaking again and so he clenched them shut. He couldn't go through more of those nightmares, reliving the corpses every time he slept.

The shared dreamscape would do. What was the worst that could happen?

-/-

The guards at the gates of Brorusalem were politer than the ones he'd met when entering Sanshu.

"Can I help you with anything else..." The young guard hesitated for a bit, before awkwardly finishing his sentence. "Sir?"

The sir part caused him to grimace. Which seemed to bring unease to the soldier. What was up with the man?

Maybe it had to do with the fact Jaune was noticeably mad, arcane energy leaking from his body in tiny purple strings.

He had found the aftermath of another bandit attack along the way. This time, there had been no survivors.

And just like last time, almost no hero corpses had been present. It could of course be that the bandits were being lead by a necromancer who needed the remains to create more powerful minions. But the fact that there was only one known necromancer alive at the moment, and he had managed to build himself a city-state in the Grimmlands, made Jaune doubt that someone sharing that particular class would bother with something as mundane as banditry.

Which left the possibility of the adventurers being traitors. It was much more likely on this particular route due to its supposed safety and the consequent action of the merchants hiring people who were green.

Young heroes after all, were more, swayable than old ones.

Jaune looked at the soldiers surrounding him, found the commanding officer and barked at him. "You!" The man sprang up and pointed at himself as if asking, me? "Yes you! Lead the wagon towards the nearest temple, healing place, doctors or whatever, heavily injured adventurer inside." Jaune frowned at the man, who hesitated and started waving the wagon through slowly.

They all seem a bit scared of him, which was odd. He was only thirteen after all. Well, as long as it made them more willing to help. Jaune didn't think the archer would hold out much longer. Her condition had gotten progressively worse.

"You probably know the consequences of a hero dying because of your tardiness." The man paused for a second, then started waving the wagon through a bit faster.

This was getting ridiculous.

"Get to it!" He shouted, aghast at their slowness. The commander of the gate guards finally started moving people aside for the wagon to pass through. He would trust the man for now.

He felt the guard he had previously spoken to try to stealthily move away. Jaune turned around and glared at him. The soldier froze comically. One leg in the air.

"You!" He grabbed him by the arm and started heading into town, pulling the much heavier man behind him.

"Lead me to the adventurers guild." He pushed him ahead of himself, the soldier not even trying to resist.

The man started walking furiously. Jaune was hot on his heels until they reached the adventurers guild, which was quite a lot bigger than the one in Sanshu.

Jaune entered it brusquely. Then, feeling that the man was still standing outside, he poked his head out of the building and stared at him, causing the man to salute. Oddly enough.

"Dismissed."

Not caring what the soldier did now, he ran to the counter, ignoring all the adventurers sitting at the tables in the foreroom.

"What can I do fo-" The pretty clerk, really were they all pretty, was it a requirement to hold the important position of standing behind a desk, asked before she was cut off by Jaune. Her name was Ebby, according to the words above her head.

"Code yellow 2-3."

The hall went still, and Ebby, the scribe quickly stepped from behind the desk and muttered a quick 'follow me' before she started basically running towards the stairs that probably lead to the person in charge of this place.

If nothing else Jaune had to respect the efficiency of the guild as he sat before the branch head of this particular office, Howen, not five minutes after entering the building, giving a report on what he'd encountered.

By the time he was finished, the old man sitting before him had a deep scowl on his face and was madly puffing on his pipe.

Like an aged tree, Howen slowly raised his hand, which was gnarled enough to resemble a branch, discontinuing the waterfall of words leaving Jaune's mouth.

"I think I understand the situation well enough now. Thank you for bringing it to my attention." Even his voice sounded old, and kind of reminded him of a tree. Fitting since he was a druid. "I would rather not ask this of a young adventurer." Here he sighed. "But could you be a part of the expedition that will hunt the bandits down?" Howen grimaced before continuing. "As much as it saddens me, you are the one who has seen the, eh, aftermaths of the attacks and therefore you might be able to give certain... insights helpful to the mission."

Jaune really didn't want to. He had no illusions of what would happen when they eventually found the bandits. They would kill them. The young mage didn't know how he would deal with that. Another problem being the suspected involvement of adventurers.

What would a hero do?

Jaune stared the older man in the eyes. The man looked tired. It couldn't be an easy job, being responsible for so many people. "I'm afraid I can't." Howen glowered. Jaune imagined his non-participation would just make the mission harder. But Jaune couldn't, he needed… time. Yeah, time to think about everything. Time to grow stronger, not throw himself headfirst into another quest. But mostly, he was just terrified. Terrified of coming even slightly closer than necessary to people who had caused that... carnage.

Howen nodded. "I can't force you, and I understand why you wouldn't want to. That is all then, you can leave."

Jaune blinked in surprise. Wouldn't the man try to convince him to go? He stood up and made to leave, but before he could close the door behind him he heard Howen call him one more time.

"Also, your adventurer rank will be raised to C, allowing you to take more strenuous missions. It's a reward for being so fast in bringing this important information to us." The man scratched his head, looking embarrassed. "And also because I think you're a bright boy. I think you can go far if you manage to stay alive."

Jaune wondered how the druid had gotten that impression. He didn't really consider himself that special.

"Thanks," Jaune said and closed the door behind him. He slowly walked down to the main hall where he stood around for a few minutes trying to sort out his mind. Then he decided to upgrade his adventurer's card, bring the proof from Emanon that he had successfully escorted her to Brorusalem, and chat up the clerk about the city he was now in.

The new clerk, Naila, also cleared up the reason why the guards at the entrance of the city had been uneasy around him, maybe even a bit scared.

Apparently the royal magician was the 'mayor' of this city, and he wasn't really a man you wanted to get on the bad side on. He was a wizard, oddly enough, a class that had to wave a stick around to do any magic.

And thus, all magical classes were treated carefully, by non-adventurers at least. Well, that was the gist of the story at least.

-/-

Jaune made his way to the Dmetri Hospital, which also served as the academy for all healing-based professions in Brorusalem and its surrounding villages.

On his way there he took a look around the city. He wasn't really in a hurry. He was only going to say his goodbyes to Emanon, enquire about the archer's chances of surviving, and then be on his way to do whatever.

The city was a city, this was noticeable. Bigger than any place he'd been to before by a large margin. The variety of the people present surprised him though. Why were there so many woodcutters and farmers here?

There was no wood to cut and no land to farm. Then he remembered that some people didn't necessarily follow the call of their class, and some that were unable to.

Like the soldier missing one arm and half his leg, who was sitting before a workshop and working on a small wooden sculpture. It was contradictory, and he didn't like seeing something like that.

It was weird.

Jaune bet that he, himself, could still fight even with missing limbs.

Another thing that he noticed was the fact that people went out of their way to avoid him, or more like stay just a few more feet away from him than was strictly necessary.

He shook his head, wondering how the reputation of a magic user could drop so low that everyone else in town started to avoid people whose class even resembled his. What had the man done?

The looks he was getting were starting to become uncomfortable. They weren't filled with hate or disdain. He had seen enough of that in Aschen and Sanshu that he could ignore it. The eyes of the people around him were filled with fear and uncertainty, like Jaune was some unpredictable animal that they didn't know the behaviour patterns of.

Therefore he was glad when he finally arrived at the hospital. He was even more glad to note that the library he'd heard so much about was situated right next to it, which would make running his errands a bit smoother. He yawned. As long as his tiredness didn't catch up to him.

Entering the hospital, he looked around the waiting room, and upon seeing Emanon walked over to sit down by her side.

The woman had an uncharacteristically blank gaze adorning her face. He nudged her. "So?"

She shrugged in response before answering. "The girl had heavy internal bleeding or something. If we'd taken two more days to bring her in she would have died." Emanon pointed down one of the spotlessly white corridors. "They're patching her up in one of those rooms. They said they would get me when they were done. It wasn't seen as a real emergency to be honest. Adventurers get treatment from healers exclusively, after all."

As if summoned by her words, a young man with the class of doctor walked up to them, and after eyeing Jaune warily led them into one of the operating rooms, where they finally found the girl, May awake, eyes wide open.

Well, one of her eyes was open. Jaune winced at his thoughts.

The archer looked at them, her expression empty. "Thanks for saving me." She glanced at Emanon, before fully focusing on Jaune, probably dismissing her for being an NPC. "I probably would have died."

May turned away and stared at the ceiling. Well, she didn't look very grateful, Jaune noted. Not that he could fault her for letting her facial expressions slip in her situation. He furrowed his brows, what were those loud sounds he was hearing in the background?

"I will com-"

She was suddenly interrupted by a shout of, "Where is my granddaughter!" and the doors being forcefully pushed open not a few seconds later by an elderly man also sharing the name of Zedong and class of archer. Not willing to intrude on the family reunion, Jaune pulled Emamon out of the room and closed the door behind them.

"Let's let them reunite." Emanon shrugged, black circles apparent under her eyes. Jaune remembered that she had been the one getting by with less than five hours of sleep per night so that she could steer the wagon.

Jaune pulled out a piece of paper and a pen and wrote that he would be staying in the adventurers guild commissioned inn for at least a few days. He gave the paper to the doctor that had led them to May in the first place, instructing the man to give it to the archer when he could.

Then he nudged Emanon, who was slumping at his side, eyelids fluttering outside towards her wagon, and then wrestled with the reins towards her inn where he laid her down in a bed.

Noticing how tired he himself was, Jaune pulled his sleeping bag out of his inventory, laid it onto the ground, and also went to sleep. The library could wait.

He drifted away into the shared dreamscape, pleasantly noting that the wooden floors here were more comfortable than sleeping on sand.

* * *

 **The first canon character has been introduced(excluding Jaune), hallelujah. The story will also be going on break for a while after this [instert opposite of hallelujah]. Or don't, not everyone reading this actually likes the story.**

 **I have final exams in about 10 weeks, and most of my creative and motivational power is used up on school stuff, the only hobbies I have left during this trying time being a bit of league and reading while I'm on the bus to school, where I can't learn effectively due to the bumpiness of the ride anyway.**

 **Rest in Pepsi.**


	16. Chapter 16

**_Chapter 16_**

 ** _Editor: 5th dimension_**

* * *

 _Jaune landed lightly on the crystal ground that seemed to make up the shared dreamscape today. He looked around, taking in the sights. The scene changed every night, so there was always something new to marvel at._

 _He went down to his knees to look into the mirrored Jaune in the ground. The pink crystals only distorted the colour, leaving the shape unchanged. He promptly stood up and looked away, remembering that he didn't like reflections._

 _And that he was here to escape nightmares, not reinforce them. Instead of looking at the ground, Jaune looked at the sky._

 _The boundless sky, speckled with stars so bright they burned at his eyes. Stars so big he felt like he could reach out and touch them. Suddenly the stars rearranged themselves. Coming together in twelve forms that started to scatter in all directions before he could make out what they represented._

 _Jaune watched, interested, as the distinct shapes disappeared, leaving a few stars and one big sun. Then a gigantic hole slowly opened up in the now darker sky and two creatures that resembled an animal that he believed to be a whale came out._

 _That is, if a whale was covered with crystals of different colours. Shiny crystals of different colours._

 _Crystals that the whales were seemingly shedding, sent flying in different directions. More than one coming at him._

 _Not interested to find out if the crystals were dangerous or not, Jaune forced him_ self to wake up.

From his position on the ground, he looked at the small window of Emanon's room in the inn. A few scant rays of light penetrated from the cracks of the shuttered window, signalling that it was about time to wake up.

He righted himself and put his sleeping bag away, and after muttering a quiet farewell to Emanon's still-sleepy form, slipped out of the inn.

It wasn't really the place he was going to stay at during his time in Brorusalem. It was homely enough, and Emanon was there as well. But he knew he could get better with his status as an adventurer. And the note he'd left the archer girl had specified the Adventurers Inn as a place to meet anyway.

/-/

"What do you mean you're full?!" Jaune exclaimed, looking around the unbelievably spacious inn. The place seemed big enough to house an army!

The bearded innkeeper shrugged. "Kid, I'm not happy about it either. It's the blasted tournament. Draws all the adventurers remotely near the city, causing the inn to become overfilled. It's a dereliction of my duty to not offer room for them. You'll just have to find some place else." The man looked sorry enough for Jaune to stop complaining.

It's not like the man could do anything about it anyway.

"What tournament?" Jaune asked. The man blinked in confusion, before seeming to decide that if Jaune was asking he really just didn't know.

"Well, you know that Brorusalem has an arena." The man looked at Jaune expectantly, causing the mage to nod. "Well, the heroes who fight there mostly stay the same, which is boring for them and for the audience." The man breathed in deeply. Maybe he wasn't used to talking that much.

"They got this brilliant idea that once a year, they invite all the heroes not from the city to come, and compete with the arena fighters in a tournament-style match-up." The man sized up Jaune, and apparently deciding he looked competent enough added, "There's even a bracket for people below the age of seventeen. Might be a good experience." The man laughed and shook his head. "Hell, you're dressed more professional than adventurers twice your age."

The man was right, that did sound interesting, his swordsmanship would definitely benefit as well. "When is this tournament exactly?" The innkeep held up one finger. "A day?" The man grinned and shook his head. "A week?" Jaune gasped. "You're telling me the inn is already full and the actual competition is a month away."

The man nodded, causing Jaune to curse. "Holy shit."

An elderly lady behind him slapped him over the head. "Watch your language young man."

She then turned to the innkeep and started discussing something with him, which gave Jaune the clear signal that he was neither wanted, nor needed. So he left.

Not before looking around, noting the people under seventeen. Scouting out the competition, if possible, was never a bad idea. He also noted that some of the them looked a bit, rough, for prospective arena fighters.

-/-

Jaune visited May again. After all, she wouldn't be able to find him in the Inn.

After entering her room he just sat down beside her bed and finally took a good look at her now-clean form.

Dark purple hair, greatly contrasting her white, sickly skin. One eye. One eye. Fuck.

"You look like you're suffering more than me, and I'm the one actually hurt," she said, drawing him out of his pity.

Her raspy voice just reminded him of her condition, though.

"Will you be fine?" he asked as he wrung his hands and crossed and uncrossed his legs. She glanced at him.

"I'm going to be perfectly fine in less than a week." She shook her head. "The healers really work miracles, when you actually consider it."

The silence returned until Jaune got fed up.

"What are were even supposed to talk about?!" he asked. More to himself than to her.

May answered nonetheless. "I don't know. You're the one who came here."

Jaune threw himself back in his chair, almost tipping over and arms flailing, making the archer laugh. "Well, you wanted to say something to me when your grandfather interrupted us. I left a note saying I'll be at the Adventurers Inn. But that place is full. And, and..." Jaune gesticulated wildly.

"You can stay with me, you know."

He looked at her oddly. "Really?"

May nodded, expression serious. "Really. I'll be released today; just be here and we can go home together." Home.

"What about your parents though?" Jaune asked. And before he even finished his sentence, he knew it had been the wrong thing to say. May's face grew dark and her eyes began to tear up?

Goddammit Jaune...

Jaune almost tripped over his tongue as he blurted out, "Forget I asked, I meant to say grandfather," causing May to once again start laughing quietly.

"You're weird," May said. And Jaune told her she was weird as well, in his head, that was. She laughed too much.

"A good kind of weird, I hope." He coughed and adjusted himself in his chair. Did they really need to make them so... uncomfortable?

She nodded, her eyes noticeably dropping. "Yeah, mm."

Jaune looked at her worryingly. "Are you feeling sleepy?"

The only answer he got was her nodding. Nodding off, that was.

She looked... serene in her sleep. Jaune didn't know what kind of relationship you had with people you saved the life of. But looking at her, he wanted to find out.

-/-

Jaune stepped into the Great Library of the City under the Sun that he had been eyeing since yesterday. A humongous building made out of sparkling marble, it was more a cathedral than a library.

When he stepped inside, however, his jaw dropped and he couldn't help but exclaim in amazement.

"Wow." The place was stacked with bookshelves that reached higher than some houses. Ladders were beside them so people could actually retrieve the books they wanted. The faint smell of old parchment in the air intermingled with dust motes, made visible by the rays of sunshine coming through the windows.

"It's pretty amazing, ain't it." A voice startled Jaune as he was looking at the sparse tables where people sat to read in peace. He eeped and spun around to find a slightly older looking boy with a shock of yellow hair, half of his face crisscrossed with what seemed to be burns.

The class above his head said mage, even if he wasn't dressed as one. His name was Sun Wukong.

Sun looked at him, causing Jaune to remember the words the boy had exclaimed from behind him.

"I never really imagined it was even possible to gather so many book in one place," Jaune said embarrassingly, probably outing himself as someone who lived in some village at the ass end of nowhere.

The monkey faunus smiled, and Jaune noted the yellow tail swinging behind him erratically, looking around wistfully.

"It's quite an amazing feat when you think about it. One of the few things that make it worth staying in this town. Except the bananas that is." Sun laughed at his own joke. "Though that might just change soon." He suddenly said more seriously.

Jaune wondered what made it not worth staying at this town, then remembered how mages seemed to be treated in general. Then his mind drifted off to the bananas. Were they really that good?

Sun continued on. "I can show you around you know." He gestured at the countless books surrounding them. "It can be pretty hard finding anything here. You need to learn the sorting system."

"I wouldn't want to bother you," Jaune answered, and it was true. Leading him around would take quite a while, and the other boy was here to read as well after all.

The blonde boy waved him off. "Let me, it's literally my job. I work here part-time, watching out so that no one takes books outside, and leading new people around."

Jaune shrugged. If it was literally his job, why not? "Show me the way then, oh wise one."

The monkey grinned and started raucously explaining the sorting system. "...And that's where all the porn is at..."

Once finished with the half-hour tour, Jaune had to admit he would probably have stumbled around confused for quite a while if he hadn't been told the system by which the books were sorted.

Someone should really invent a better one, honestly.

Waving his sunny-dispositioned (pun unintended) guide goodbye, he sat down at one of the tables with the books he'd sought out. Location-Based Behaviour of Mana, Swords and You, and Thus Dabbed Zarathustra.

The next time he even bothered to look up through one of the windows, the sun was already at its high point. Which meant he'd spent the last five hours reading. He looked down at the two still-unfinished books.

He sighed and put them back in their place. Next time when he visited, which was probably tomorrow, he would simply take them with him, policy of non-lending be damned.

Inventory would make the act easy and untraceable, which at the moment it wasn't, since Sun had seen him pick out the three books and would immediately know who was responsible if they went missing.

Honestly, it wasn't like he wouldn't return them. He'd finish them within a day, and bring them back quickly.

No one would notice.

One concept that he had read about that wouldn't leave his head was the fact that he could learn spells outside his specialization if he tried hard enough and understood enough about the behaviour of mana. Jaune had known this before, but now he had an actual manual available.

One such spell he wanted was the light spell, a cheap spell that made a light follow him around. Much less costly than having an arcane bolt active the entire time. Much brighter too.

As he went to pick up May, Jaune wondered how he should go around learning such a thing, since there were different ways. He entered the hospital, once again getting glared at, and found her already waiting for him at the reception, legs swinging from the slightly too tall chairs.

She looked up, the lack of an eye causing an involuntary flinch. By the sad look on her face, it was a flinch she'd noticed. Even if the empty socket was bandaged up, he still knew it was empty. And that was enough.

"Sorry," Jaune said as she stood up.

May shrugged and started walking slowly beside him, limping slightly. "Its fine, I guess." It wasn't though, was it?

"It isn't," Jaune said. He looked at her, really looked. She was pretty, a bit small for her age. And still pale, obviously sick.

He laid a hand on her shoulder. "I'm going to carry you," he said, then turned and bent his knees slightly, stretching his arms out backwards.

After a few moments of hesitation, she jumped onto the offered piggyback ride. She was dangerously light. Underweight? Or maybe he was just that strong. Jaune laughed at himself in his head and started walking.

May put her head on his shoulder, lazily watching people walk past and streets change before she finally commented, "You're pretty strong for a mage."

Weirdly enough the innocuous praise was a reminder that maybe his training was paying off. That maybe, one day, he would be strong enough. Strong enough to save people like May, before they were crippled. Strong enough that just the fact he existed would be enough to protect everybody he cared about.

"Thanks," he managed to choke out.

-/-

"And this is where you'll sleep!" said May cheerily, throwing the doors of a guest room open with more strength than one would give her credit for.

Jaune looked inside. It was quaint, bigger than any room he would get in an inn. The entire home was, well, homely. Lived in, in a nice way, not the dirty feeling you got from inns knowing that hundreds of people had inhabited the place where you slept.

"Thanks. I know to appreciate this." And he did, not only for the monetary aspects. It was very trusting to allow someone you didn't know into your home.

But people who belonged to one particular group had to hold together. In this case, he thought as he glanced at the word 'archer' hanging above May's head, it was that they were both of the hero class.

The fact he'd saved her probably had something to do with it as well.

She started walking through the spacious hallways after motioning for him to follow. They arrived in a kitchen.

It suddenly hit him how much he missed home. Something stung at his eyes. What was with him getting so sentimental today? Jaune watched, maybe too interested as May bent over to fish out a pot from... somewhere.

"You can go get your luggage from wherever you put it. I'll make us lunch," she mumbled, seemingly embroiled in making preparations to cook something.

"I don't have any," he said. After all, everything fit into his inventory.

May looked at him pityingly, causing Jaune to blink. Well, she probably thought he was poor now. It didn't really matter.

He took the wabji root out of her hand to disperse the moment. "Let me cut this for you." She looked at him doubtfully. Then shrugged, opening her mouth to speak, but broke off as Jaune pulled his sword out his inventory and started cutting.

She closed her mouth, turned around, and muttered something about mages that she probably didn't want him to hear.

Jaune was delegated to chopping things by May, and after a few minutes of preparing the food, they were done with the work. Now the soup, sauce, whatever it was only needed to cook over a small fire for a few hours without any input of the chefs.

Jaune turned to May. "Where are the training grounds, actually?" he asked.

"Well, which one do you want to go to? The city has several. One for melee, ranged, magic, and supporting classes," she answered.

Jaune, meanwhile, was wondering what supporting classes were. Probably classes that were meant to support others and not take to the fight themselves. It was fairly self-explanatory. Probably classes like healers, druids, curse mages, and such.

He mulled his decision over for a few moments.

"Melee, I want to go the melee training grounds," he decided, showing his sword to May, who seemed impressed.

"Wow, it must be hard learning swordsmanship as a mage. Do you have the skill?" she asked.

A question Jaune didn't want to answer. He was fairly sure it was very rude to ask people about what skills they had, or which level they were at. Well, unless you were going questing with them.

May seemed to notice this a second later herself. "Sorry, you don't have to answer that," she hastily added. She blushed and started limping towards the door.

Jaune rolled his eyes. "I have a skill for it if you must know." He swiftly overtook her limping pace and put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. "And you have another thing coming if you think I'm letting you limp halfway through the city at this time."

May's face lit up. "You know, I might have an idea."

-/-

"I'm not sure how to feel about this," Jaune commented as he pulled May through Brorusalem's winding streets in a small wagon. For one, he much preferred carrying her, body pressed against his back, her legs in his arms.

Where were those thoughts coming from? It was disturbing.

"What are those two doing?"

"Are her legs broken or-?"

He winced as he heard more versions of the same words from the crowd around them. That was the first thing he disliked about this.

The second thing was that it looked ridiculous.

"Turn right here!" Not that this seemed to bother May, who'd been shouting out directions cheerily the entire way.

Thankfully, after this turn, the training ground finally came into sight.

It was a wide area cordoned off by a wooden fence, and a rack of wooden swords and many other weapons were by the entrance. Jaune pulled May to the rack, took a sword from it, and left the way-too-cheery girl at the stands, a few other spectators also present.

Brorusalem, if possible, was even hotter than the area around Sanshu. Which meant he would probably die if he trained in his standard black garbs.

He faintly heard some whistling from the stands, which now that he looked closer, were mostly filled with young women. Had they watched him undress? Jaune asked himself, unsure about how he felt about that.

He started his training routine, trying to ignore the fact that apparently it was acceptable for perverts to watch heroes train.

It wasn't long before an older man came over to him. Another swordsman, not to ridicule him, as had sometimes happened at Sanshu, but to ask for a sparring match. It was a chance to try out the sword style Jain had suggested.

Jaune lost, but Berald, the swordsman, offered a few simple tips before leaving. Jaune blinked at the experience. "Well that was surprisingly helpful of him," he muttered to himself.

"Yeah, he often helps out younger swordsmen. He must have been specifically interested in you because you're a mage." Jaune jumped at the voice and spun around.

Only to find himself staring at a grinning Sun, the boy from the library.

Wasn't dimensional comprehension meant to warn him of this? Jaune scowled and narrowed his eyes at him. "Please don't do that," he said. Sun awkwardly shrugged at that.

"Sorry, I have a stealth skill, and it's good training. I justify it with the fact that sneaking up on people helps their situational awareness as well," he replied.

Jaune blinked. A stealth skill. On a mage. And what was a mage doing in the melee training area?

Looking at Sun's hands... apparently training his staff skills. It was a simple design, a stick of sturdy wood with a leather wrapping in some areas, which he presumed to be there for grip.

A mage who also trained his melee skills. Jaune couldn't help but grin. He just hoped he wouldn't beat the other boy to one-sidedly.

"Hey Sun." The boy looked at him curiously. "Wanna fight?"

-/-

Dodging a twirling strike of the staff, Jaune concluded that the beat down was in fact one-sided, just not the way he'd wished it to be. The other end of the staff came around and smacked him in the face.

Getting up after being thrown flat on his back for the third time since they'd started fighting, Jaune was reconsidering his life choices. Though taking his stance, made hard by the bruises that were gathering on his body, Jaune couldn't help but smile.

This was sparring. He'd missed it, not being able to partake in the pure unadulterated improvement and subsequent depression since parting with Jain.

Now if only he could actually use his magic to fight as well... but he couldn't. It was common courtesy not to while fighting in the melee training grounds. Nobody except his partner was really giving him any attention, and if he missed it could injure someone.

Raising magical skill proficiency was better done somewhere else.

Jaune raised a hand, halting Sun in his tracks. The blonde didn't even seem winded.

"I think I'm done with sword training for today. I'll be heading over to the mage training grounds now." Jaune looked at the staff-wielding boy.

Sun was a mage too. He had almost forgotten the fact over how profoundly he'd been beat down.

"Wanna come with me?" Jaune asked.

Sun's face darkened at the question, the burn scar on his face making the expression even more ugly. A great contrast to his usual disposition.

"Not really," Sun answered brusquely, then halted. "Sorry, that was rude of me," he added. He turned around and started walking away, but then spoke again. "I'm here most afternoons though, if you want to spar again." Sun waved over his shoulder with a strained smile and left, presumably to look for a different sparring partner.

Jaune gained a contemplative look.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

 **Editor: 5th dimension**

* * *

Jaune hissed quietly as May rubbed the healing herbs he'd picked up in his last month of low-level questing onto his bruised back.

Turns out that sparring with someone on your level was more painful than sparring with someone who was much better. Jain, after all, had never seen a reason to go all out, simply guiding the mage to a helpful conclusion of every spar.

Sun, on the other hand, probably had given his all to fight Jaune. Despite the monkey boy being more skilled, their physical stats still mostly seemed to be on the same level.

"Stop hissing already," May said into his ear. "You're the one who got into the fight. Willingly I might add, so deal with the consequences like a man."

Jaune grunted. He only wished he'd had the herbs in salve form. Rubbing dry plants onto wounds wasn't really the most delightful of experiences.

Jaune thanked May and pulled his shirt on again. Causing May to roll her eyes at him for some reason. "What." He glared at her, the archer pursing her lips.

"Nothing."

Girls.

She was still nicer than basically all his sisters though. Thinking of family reminded him of mum and his sisters, and how long he hadn't seen them.

Now he missed them. Great.

The good atmosphere that they'd shared for most of the day was now ruined. He decided to be the one to take the first step to once again having fun being in the same room as the other person.

"Your cooking is really good." The words caused May to look at him oddly.

"Thanks." She tilted her head slightly.

"Do you like swords?" he asked.

May stared at him. Jaune stared back, then sighed. "Sorry, as you've probably noticed I'm not really good at this..." He waved his hands in the air. "...people thing." May nodded slowly.

"Yes, just..." She shrugged, smiling awkwardly. "Keep practising?" The pitch of her voice changed as she spoke the last word, turning it more into a question than a statement.

"You know, I think I'm just going to go to sleep," Jaune said, once the silence stretched on for too long.

"Do that. We can do a few quests tomorrow, to familiarize yourself with the area." May looked at him expectantly.

Jaune was confused. Was there something else he was supposed to say?

Oh, right. He looked May in the eyes, eye, damn it. "Goodnight."

He could swear he heard the girl behind him mutter something about boys.

-/-

Jaune grunted as he ground another dried cauliflower into powder, adding the powder to a previously prepared mix of milk and alcohol. He put it above a burner to simmer and turned the engraved hourglass he had bought just for this occasion upside-down. The timer was twelve minutes long, so he would have to wait until the sand was half-fallen before removing the liquid from the fire.

Done with that particular salve, a medicine to help with bruises, he simply switched to another one of the improvised workstations in his room.

Using the utensils he'd bought himself, with the ingredients he'd harvested himself, he started to peel back the skin from one of the bright orange fruits found in the green spots around Brorusalem. Plucking out the white fibres on the inside of its skin, he put them aside and started to press out the skin above a glass vial to gather the oily, scented fluid that spurted out.

He took a bite of one of the slices of the fruit. One fruit only contained a minimal amount of the restorative liquid. Thankfully though, the rest of the... Jaune remembered it was called an orange, was extremely useful as well.

Not as medicine, but as food. Even if it tasted weird. Jaune sighed and wished he had an apple right now. Taking a glance at the hourglass, he removed the concoction he had created from the fire and held his hand above it.

Letting his magic flow to the appendage, he tried to make it mix with some of the aspects of the lavender coloured salve, namely the heat. After a minute or so Jaune succeeded. He repressed a whoop of joy (it would have ruined his concentration), and stretched out a finger, trying to compress the heat in as small a space as possible.

A small flicker of fire burst into existence, leaving just as quickly.

"I don't know why you feel the need to play with fire magic in my house," May muttered from where she was standing in the corner of the room.

Jaune raised an eyebrow at her. He knew it was slightly insensitive, but it was just a small flame, comparable to a candle. He took a pointed glance at the severed hand that lay on one of the other tables, crude stitches covering its surface.

"You know, I think it's incredibly cool how you're learning medicine!" May waved a hand about. "But, you make it look way too creepy." She looked him up and down. "Are you sure you're not an alchemist?" she asked, causing Jaune to shake his head.

"Pretty sure. I was, after all, gifted with the ability to read and have access to a mirror."

His words made May snort. "Some wouldn't think so, the way your hair looks sometimes."

Jaune rolled his eyes, threw a weak arcane bolt filled with water her way, and started to clean up the room while hearing her sputter from suddenly having her mouth filled. Putting all the utensils he'd used for his 'alchemy' away, he spoke. "I'll need the bruise salve if I want to spar in the melee training ground, and I always wanted to learn at least a bit of medicine, so it's catching two stones with one bird."

May looked dubious. "Uhuh, and that's why you're learning how to suture wounds on severed limbs. Also, I don't think the proverb goes like that."

Jaune walked over to the severed arm covered in stitches and waved it in May's general direction, making her flinch back in disquiet and growl at him. "Keep that thing away from me or I swear to god I wil-" She flipped over his bed, landing in a crouch to dodge the arm. He made it disappear into his inventory before it actually hit her.

"You'll what, use me as target practice?" Jaune asked.

May's eyes took on a dangerous glint, and not five minutes later Jaune found himself in her spacious backyard with the archer pointing her bow at him. He noted some trees interspersed with sculptures and the like. Trees in a desert, a privilege if he'd ever seen one.

"Are you sure you want to do this? They're blunted, but it still hurts." She shot an arrow at a nearby tree. A visible dent appeared where the arrow had hit the wood.

"Stop hitting the trees, May! For fuck's sake girl, how many times have I told you not to do it?!" her grandfather, sitting on a bench overlooking his rather big training yard, exclaimed. "Also, we have training puppets. We made them together just for this occasion; no need to torture the boy." He sent a pitying look Jaune's way.

Jaune waved the older Zedong off. "Don't worry about it sir, I doubt May will be able to even hit me, and if I didn't want to serve as target practice I would simply refuse." Predictably, his insult to May's accuracy heralded the first arrow sent his way. It was a predictable one which he had no problem dodging.

It didn't really bother him, Jaune thought to himself, jumping over a projectile aimed at his legs and fooling May into shooting at his airborne position, probably thinking he couldn't dodge in midair. An arcane bolt sent out of his right hand provided the momentum he needed to get out of the way despite this.

If he actually dreaded having arrows shot at him, he would simply not do so. But since it was good training for his dodging ability, dexterity, and also offered May a chance to train her how the loss of her eye affected her archery, it was perfectly fine.

Hell, a month ago he'd fought a full-fledged archer who had only managed to hit him once. Even if he suspected the man was a parasitic lowlife without much skill, he had still been about twice as old as Jaune, and that had to count for something right?

He winced as he barely swerved out of the way of an arrow that whistled closely past his face.

But he'd also been fully concentrated on the fight back then, now he was consciously taking steps to be as distracted as possible. After all, retaining the ability to think while in combat, letting your body handle everything else was a crucial thing for a hero. It brought up the possibility of making more complex strategies while fighting.

Intelligence was humanity's big advantage against the Grimm. And the fact that they could train their body, a fact that some people apparently didn't know of.

Which was made clear by the fact that it was May who tired first, wheezing and holding up her hands in surrender. Jaune grinned. Another day, another victory.

...But he hadn't won against Sun. And May was still not in top condition and was was missing an eye. Jaune sighed and his smile dampened. But he would help her regain her former form. She was a friend at this point.

That's when her grandpa stepped onto the field, a longbow in his hand, eyes twinkling mischievously. "Mind giving this old man a chance?"

Jaune had a certain amount of automatic respect for people older than him. Maybe that was a part of why he allowed the man to use him as target practice. Or the fact it would help him improve faster.

One thing was for sure when it was over. If it weren't for the point of dexterity he got from that, he'd never consider being target practice for the old man again.

-/-

The arena clerk looked at the adventurer card in his hands, then at Jaune. "Rank C at your age. Impressive," he admitted.

"Thanks?" Jaune replied.

The clerk tapped his finger on the wooden table he was sitting behind and sighed. "You know, this is quite annoying. The tournament staff make sure to sort people into brackets containing their own age group." He made a circle motion with his hands. "But, if you have the skills that the usual Rank C has, it won't be much of a competition."

The clerk looked at Jaune, almost pleadingly. "Do you see my conundrum?"

The mage scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "Why not just, uh, sort by rank?" he offered weakly.

The man behind the desk shook his head, "Not everyone is an adventurer." Throwing his arms up the man exclaimed, "You know what, screw it, here's to your age bracket kid. Better you beating someone up slightly than some older guy overestimating you and turning you into a puddle." The man looked at Jaune expectantly.

"Uh okay, thanks?" the mage asked, feeling the glares of the people behind him, angry due to the fact he'd been holding up the line for more than just a few minutes now.

The clerk, apparently happy with Jaune's answer, nodded cheerfully, jotted down a name in one of his many ledgers and handed the mage a round piece of paper with the number '384' on it.

Jaune was then shooed away. He walked woodenly over to May and sat down next to her, taking a glance at her round piece of paper. 375.

Putting his hand to his chin, he mimicked a thinking position. Then when he noticed May was getting impatient waiting for whatever he was going to say, exclaimed, "I have no idea what these numbers mean!" Which earned him a slap on the arm and a roll of her eyes, eye...

The eye jumped into focus, looking at something behind Jaune, causing him to turn around and take a look himself. There he saw Sun, dressed in his usual brown shirt and pants lounging in line to the registry.

"Well, this makes the tournament a bit harder," May said. But Jaune only grinned. He liked Sun, really. He was nice in every area that didn't come in contact with the boy's apparent unwillingness to use magic. He wouldn't hesitate to use what he'd learned from their spars against him though.

"I don't think he will be half as hard an opponent as you probably think," Jaune said quietly and chuckled to himself, in what he imagined to be quite an evil laugh. Then he immediately sobered up. " I think it's about time we go towards our mission, isn't it."

May nodded somberly herself. "It is, isn't it."

-/-

Jaune leaned back on the rock outcropping they were sitting on, waiting for May to successfully herd the weird doggo monsters of the desert into a fairly packed space. Then he stood up and idly threw a few poison-filled arcane blasts in the direction above them.

The powder disperse slowly, but travelled quickly in the circulatory system of its victims due to their adrenaline-increased blood flow.

A few minutes of running around in circles and the doggos dropped to the ground twitching, the poison having interrupted their nerve endings for a time. Jaune walked over and hacked off the heads.

He lifted one of them up to May. "So you're telling me that something that gets knocked out by a weak poison in five minutes, when it usually takes twenty, is one of the biggest annoyances in Vacuo."

May shrugged in response. "They breed really fast, and nobody wants to root them out completely in case of a famine. They don't taste good, but food is food," she answered.

Jaune looked at the head in his hand oddly before throwing it away. "Weird doggo." He turned to May. "Famines happen often?"

"My grandfather lived through one when he was a boy. The royal magician has managed to consistently solve the food issue any times the warning signs of famine have showed."

Jaune was at a loss for words at that. "How?" How did you even solve food issues as a magic wielder? Sure, you could use magic to help farmers with their fields, but one man couldn't possibly do enough to save a big city like Brorusalem, let alone an empire. The man must have achieved it politically. Often times only one person in a high position needed to speak up to convince other politicians.

"I don't know, he used some spell, _genini_ or something, and out of one pile of wheat came two," May answered.

Jaune halted.

So people like that existed. Able to spit in the face of reality and make it their bitch. It was somewhat inspiring, somewhat demoralizing. Odd that the man didn't seem that liked despite managing something as grand as procuring a basically infinite source of food. Was it even possible for him to ever reach such a level?

He clenched his fist to feel his strength pressing against him. The sensation changed slightly every time one of his physical stats changed. A sign of progress.

"Are you okay?" May asked, causing him to look to her, puzzled.

"Yeah, why?"

She shrugged. "You always clench your fist when worrying about something. You did the same thing when I proposed we go to the low-level dungeon in the city."

Was it such a bad habit to have, he thought to himself while May kept speaking.

"Why so determined not to go? We won't get nearly as much experience hunting these kangaroos."

"I don't like dungeons for the same reasons you probably don't like caravans now," he said, a bit more sharply than he intended.

May's head jerked back as if slapped, purple hair covering her eyes, eye, and she whispered a quiet apology.

"You couldn't have known; I've never talked about it. Just by interacting with you nobody would realize what you've been through either. Since you don't talk about it either"

"It's probably a mistake to not talk about it."

"It's not one I'm willing to rectify." Jaune nipped the conversation that was coming in the bud.

May seemed more relieved at that than anything else. She probably wasn't too eager to offer disclosure about the bandit raid either, Jaune thought to himself. Revealing the experience of almost dying. It was a baring of weakness, matched maybe only by the physical act of handing someone your weapons.

He absent-mindedly threw a bolt at an approaching... kangaroo, that's what they were called. Its head exploded. May meanwhile, looked into the distance while showing her own nervous tick.

Touching all fingers with her thumb twice, first with the left, then twice with the right, then with the left again. Then repeat one more time, starting with the right.

Eight repetitions of eight touches. The significance of the number was unknown to Jaune and he could only conclude that she picked it due to its attribute of being the only symmetrical number. The action repeated in such a way that it ended symmetrically as well.

Jaune clenched his fists.

-/-

They'd returned to Brorusalem after hunting a few more groups of doggos, only for the first thing they heard to be bad news.

"A party of seven adventurers killed while hunting down the bandits, another caravan lost. A bigger one this time," May's grandfather said as they sat down to eat dinner.

The man glanced at his granddaughter, noticed her apparent discomfort, and immediately derailed the topic. "But enough about that standard fare. There's a group of upstarts every decade. Tell me, how was hunting?" he asked, causing both of them to shrug simultaneously.

"I just drew them in for Jaune to paralyse with some powder and then kill them while incapacitated," May said hesitantly. "I won't say it was the least taxing hunt I've been on, but it was the most time-efficient."

"Time-efficient is good. You never really appreciate these things until you realize how little time in this world you really have." The old Zedong ate a few bites before continuing. "I have a quest lined up, pretty beginner stuff." He looked at the two of them. "Would you like to come?"

"Sure," May said quickly.

"Depends on the quest," Jaune said bluntly, earning himself a nudge in the ribs from his companion.

"Grimm extermination." Zedong leaned forward. "The bandit raids you've heard about are only a small part of what's actually been happening. Most of it is centred around the capital, but the waves are big enough to reach even here. I suspect politics."

He leaned back in his chair and sighed. "I'm too old for this, you two are too young. The events have increased the fear felt by the population by quite a lot. It wouldn't raise any eyebrows if we were to simply leave on a Grimm extermination mission for one or two months while it all blows over."

One or two months meant Jaune would miss the tournament and access to the library, which was a big part of why he was even here.

"If I may ask, what exactly is happening?" Jaune asked while wondering how he hadn't noticed anything. Maybe the issue wasn't that big?

"Succession wars. Not in the sense that the emperor has princes," the old man explained, "but in the sense that his officials are battling it out amongst them until he puts a stop to them. It happens every now and then, to weed out the most incompetent."

It was easy for incompetence to gather when there were times of peace. Jaune guessed it was an effective way to root it out. But still... "It's a dereliction of their duty."

Zedong nodded at Jaune's words. "It is, but are you talking about the duty of their morality as a part of our civilization or the duty that their class bestows upon them?"

"Both."

"Is anyone really forced to do what their class tells them to do though? If they break society's code too much, shouldn't the peasants and heroes also break theirs and slaughter the worst of the offenders to keep the others in their place?"

"Yes, but I assume it's not so simple," Jaune muttered, causing Zedong to shake his head.

"No, its very simple actually. After the first stone has been thrown, an avalanche will follow. But people have learned from the past. The group that started it is never the one to prevail until the end," the man explained.

"So what, we're perpetually playing a game of everyone loses, but the one who tries to stop the game loses the most? Meanwhile the atrocities pile up to even bigger heights due to the people's tolerance growing with every one committed?!" He was almost shouting at the end of it.

"Yes." The older Zedong had thought fairly long for such a short answer. Jaune looked at May, who was leaning away from him covering her ears, which eventually caused him to calm down.

"That kinda sucks." He sighed and propped his chin on his fist.

Jaune wondered if he'd really been to blind to miss the underlying tension and political machinations. He still didn't see it, even after that confirmation.

He would give up on the tournament this year and trust the older man though.

* * *

 **It's your boi, a plot twist nobody wanted and nobody needed. You thought a tournament arc, but it was me a derailment.**

 **This the spot where I went on hiatus, coming back I noted that I didn't like where this was going. So I wrote something different, surprise.**

 **The political strife has been hinted at in the last chapters, and Jaune simply isn't someone who would stay in Brorusalem despite the dangers. It just didn't make sense.**

 **Honestly, I think this made the quality take a hit in quality like a heroin addict takes a hit from a bong. But I'm fine with it, its just practice.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

 **Edited by: 5th dimension**

* * *

Jaune didn't as much find the situation of their departure interesting. After heavy discussion with the old man he'd been convinced it would be best to leave for a few months. Danger was best avoided. The only thing he was peeved about was missing the tournament and access to the library. He had of course taken several books he was interested in. But ones he sorted out by their unpopularity! Jaune wanted to deny the chance of reading the tomes to as little people as possible.

No, what Jaune found more interesting than the circumstances was the way they left. Zedong had made them leave the house cloaked, then they'd discarded the cloaks in a narrow alleyway and changed their hairstyle and hair colour with some alchemical substance, which worked just as well as the cloaks to hide their name and class.

The first stop they'd made was by the baker, where they brought several loaves of bread. Afterwards they changed their hair back to normal and swapped out their clothes and weapons, the items having been held in Jaune's inventory.

Running through what appeared to be the slums of Brorusalem, a part he hadn't visited yet, they gave a loaf of bread to every gang of children they encountered. It just about sufficed and they had two left by the time they reached the edge of Brorusalem's outer wall.

Jaune marvelled at the construction while Zedong spoke with some residents. Well, not as much the construction of the wall, as the numerous much-too-high houses leaning against it. It would have been more impressive if the shacks didn't look like they would break down any second.

But the impossibly complicated labyrinth of stairs that seemed to connect all the above-ground-level housing more than made up for it. The people there scurried around like ants.

Zedong finished his negotiation or whatever it was, and they were led into one of the ground floor houses. Where the apparent owner, a rogue, uncovered a tarp, under which hid a tunnel. After getting paid and glancing at something behind them ,the man exited the house. Going through the tunnel took several minutes and they didn't meet any other people. When Jaune exited he found himself quite a distance away from the city at a small oasis.

"I know you're there. Come out" Zedong said loudly, having drawn his bow.

Nothing happened. Then a blonde boy with the mage class and a staff in his hand came out from behind one of the trees, hands raised.

"Sheesh, I guess I wasn't the only one with the idea of jumping ship now that things'll go to shit." Sun said in a joking manner, trying to relax the mood.

"I think it's too much of a coincidence, meeting him here," Jaune said as he turned to Zedong. He saw Sun's face turn sheepish.

The man nodded. "It is. I don't believe he was waiting to meet us specifically, though." Zedong said, apparently slightly hesitant in his deduction.

Jaune nodded. "If I was alone I would also wait at a place where only competent people would be sure to pass and try to latch onto a group to increase my chances of surviving," Jaune explained to the others.

Sun smiled hopefully. "Is that a yes?"

"No," said Zedong, with Jaune exclaiming a "Yes" at the same time.

They looked at each other.

"Reasoning?" they once again spoke simultaneously.

"Does my opinion not matter or something…?" May mumbled.

"First, I don't know him and therefore don't trust him," Zedong said.

"And second?" Jaune queried.

"That was it, one is enough."

"I know him though, and being in a position of having been helped despite the other party not having to, I would like to return the gesture with someone else. Maybe one day it'll come full circle."

"That's naïve."

"Possibly."

"He can stay, then."

Jaune saw May drawing circles in the sand and pouting as Zedong agreed. What was she doing?

"Thank you," Sun said quietly with a grateful and, dare Jaune say it? Stricken expression. Then he immediately brightened up again and asked, "So, where are we going?"

-/-

Jaune jumped over a Boarbatusk charging at him, then pulled himself up on the rope he had tied to a rock outcropping in the valley they were in.

Once he reached a safe distance away from the now confused Grimm who couldn't find its prey, he blew up some rocks, burying the monster under a lot of stone.

The old man had shown him some interesting tricks. Experience, in the end, was king.

Jaune wondered what was more useful in the end: experience, or levels (which equated to more stats). Someone that was level 20, but had never been in a fight before, would probably lose to someone who was level 15, but had been in several. Having the experience of a thousand battles wouldn't help you if you didn't have to body to use that experience, though.

Ignoring the near impossibility of such a thing of course. One would naturally never reach level 20 without fighting, and one would never fight several battles without gaining levels.

A balance would have to be struck between the two. A combination of experience and the levels to fully utilize it.

Thinking about the issue, he started returning to the place where he'd left the others, all of them having their own task to fulfill.

Sneaking through the sparse bushland that seemed to make up this part of Vacuo, the first of his group that he saw was May. He stealthily moved up behind her, waited until he was within arm's length, and spoke. "Hey."

The girl just harrumphed and pointedly crossed her arms, not turning to look at him. "Sun already did that."

"Oh." Jaune sat down next to her standing form, and after a few moments she sat as well. "The city was interesting for the first day; by the second it was just loud and smelly," he said.

"I know." She seemed to hesitate for a few seconds before continuing. "I didn't always live there. It was a great change moving from the countryside, no matter how much more dangerous it is, to the second biggest city in Vacuo."

"Did your grandpa decide he was getting too old for the outskirts?" Jaune asked, making May snort.

"He's been living in the city since before I was born. It was me and my parents in an outskirt town called Broshu." She shrugged. "My story isn't unheard of. The town got overrun by Grimm when I was eight, mum and dad died in the defense, and after a week spent in some random orphanage Gramps came to bring me to Brorusalem where I've been ever since."

"My condolences."

May waved him off, having sometime during storytime begun to wax her bow. "If you say that to everyone who's lost their parents, you're going to run out of air eventually. Leave it. Sun doesn't have parents either."

Jaune nodded. "I suspected."

"His situation was worse than mine. At least my parents loved me before they died. His mother was the one who magically burned his face so it couldn't be healed."

"Oh." He didn't know what to think about that. He stared into the distance, vaguely making out the rooftops of the garrison they were undertaking their quest in. Mamshu was one of the places on the outer reaches of a kingdom whose sole job was to be a last point of contact with adventurers and heroes heading way out into the Grimmlands. It also served as a point of first defence against Grimm tides and had a scouting function due to the many high mountains in its vicinity.

Every one of the mountains had a big tower meant to scout out the migrations of Grimm prematurely.

"That's pretty horrible, and also explains why he hates using magic," Jaune said. "Why did she do it?"

May shrugged, "I don't know. Ask Sun."

"Ask me what?" Sun asked as he suddenly appeared behind them, the sun peeking over the boys right shoulder, a bag of loot peeking over the left.

A silence stretched itself out in the clearing they were in.

"May was telling me about how your mother gave you that scar. I was wondering why she did it." Jaune said bluntly.

Beside him May slowly let her head fall into her hands groaning while Sun stared off into the distance.

"I guess people with normal mothers wouldn't even think a mother hurting her child is a possibility," he said. May looked away and Jaune grimaced. "There is a 'disease' called afterbirth depression. A mother falls into depression due to the sudden absence of the child within her. This changes their behaviour and they sometimes kill the baby." Sun looked lost in thought.

"It's what almost happened to me, but my father saved me. My father didn't marry the woman for love. He did it because of her strength. He wanted strong children to continue his legacy of power, so to say. Therefore he wasn't willing to leave her over that little mishap." Sun shrugged. "Eventually the woman lost it, and burned me. I don't want to talk about it further."

"Is that why you don't use magic?" Jaune asked.

Sun shrugged half-committedly.

"Magic is a part of you that you will never be rid off." Jaune said quietly. "If you try to walk a path that isn't destined for you..."

Sun glared at him. "So? does it matter? I do what I want."

Jaune shrugged, unaffected. "It's annoying seeing you waste your potential." The monkey faunus' glare hardened and he whipped out his staff, dropping the bag from his shoulder.

Jaune stood up and shoved a hand in his inventory.

"OK, let's not!" May said as she stepped between the both of them, hands raised.

"She's right," said Sun. He picked up his bag and started walking towards the town.

May turned to Jaune.

"What the hell, Jaune? What is wrong with you?"

The mage stared after the leaving boy. "Nothing." He turned to leave as well.

He walked towards the garrison a few hundred feet behind Sun, who occasionally turned back to glare at him. It was weird. Looking at the other boy's swinging tail, he wondered what would become of their relationship. Then noticing that staring could be misinterpreted, he switched his gaze to Sun's hair.

Sun would not fulfil his potential if he rejected magic. People could walk roads other than the ones their class dictated. But if they wanted to be anything but below average, they couldn't step down from their main road completely.

He liked Sun. Him never using his magic would be a damn shame. Jaune himself had never even considered the idea. It was a part of him, it was the thing he played with when he was bored, his most powerful ability. One could even call it a constant companion, something... holy, even.

He wasn't a religious person. Some people worshipped the natural order, others prayed to the gods of creation. He could imagine giving homage to something as vast as magic himself.

Jaune wondered what deity Sun prayed to.

He passed the gate of the garrison, nodding to the bored soldiers who misbehaved enough to be put on guard duty. Poor souls. What was even the point? There was nothing here. Jaune looked outwards to the flat expanse of land that went on to the horizon without interruption.

Making people do meaningless tasks was considered a psychological torture. Some prisoners had gone mad from being forced to sort a small mountain of different screws by size, then the wardens throwing all of it together again and forcing the inmate to repeat the task. Interesting stuff.

It was awkward going into the room that he, Sun, May and a soldier named Bill shared. It was always weird interacting with a person you had just argued with. And he and Sun had argued. Kind of. He may have hurt Sun's feelings. He wasn't sure.

Sun looked at Jaune as he walked in, his gaze following him as he walked over to his bed, laid down and pulled out one of the books he had with him.

"Sorry," he said after a few pages of silence.

Sun dragged a hand down his face in response, peeling back his lips to comical proportions. "It's fine, just..." A pause. "Don't mention it."

"Mention what?" Jaune asked.

Damn, Jaune thought to himself. He was smooth.

-/-

"Had fun hunting today?" Bill asked as he entered the room. The odd inflection to his voice caused Jaune to look over at the soldier.

Bill seemed pretty done, sweating all over and sand sticking to various parts of his moist clothing and skin. Seeing the other boy's expression, Jaune figured out the emotion that he had felt in Bill's question.

Jealousy. While the group of heroes had been out doing some 'leisurely' hunting the soldier had probably been drilling, training, or completing some tedious task given to recruits. It was probably a given that he would feel jealous in such a situation. Or maybe he was jealous because he'd finally compared Jaune's face to his own.

Not one to be a downer, Jaune raised a hand and moved it in a so-so gesture. "You know, good company makes for fun excursions. But the Grimm kinda ruin the experience a tad."

Bill grimaced at the 'good company' part. "You were probably with May again."

Jaune nodded, "Yeah, she's nice, but when you get her going on a topic she just won't stop talking. It's like her mouth was surgically replaced with a waterfall. I'm pretty sure I've become half-deaf in my left ear." Jaune rolled his eyes. "Girls, you know how it is."

He looked up to find Bill staring at him, almost aghast. He took what he probably thought to be a discrete glance at Sun and back to Jaune. His face gained a look as if he'd solved a complicated puzzle.

"I think I'm gonna go clean up," the soldier said stiltedly and walked away just as stiltedly, his legs pressed tightly together for some reason.

"Weird guy." Jaune commented, to which Sun snorted.

Jaune had often wondered about the difference between the soldier class and the hero classes. To him, they were both kinds of combat classes, but why were they treated differently? After some closer interaction with the garrison, he'd realized why.

Soldiers were a single, uniform class. They all held themselves to the same code of conduct while drafted. They had a very small circle of naturally obtainable skills, a circle comparable in size to a marble. The term hero in comparison, was the super-category for a variety of classes. All of them had more skills to choose from than a soldier; the circle they could move in was more of a basketball.

They also seemed more variable in their pathing. A hero would only need to gain the beginner level of any skill and actively wish for it to branch out their skill trees.

Bill had revealed that the process was much harder for soldiers. Odd that the soldier caste itself wasn't made up of several classes like, for example, scout and maybe pikeman. There was only soldier.

Jaune let his left arm swing off his bed and started practising magic with it out of Sun's sight. There was no hiding the muted flashing lights though. Laying something like a blanket over it would just destroy the blanket.

"What do you think of soldiers?" Jaune suddenly asked.

Sun hummed, slightly dazed from the nap he'd been taking. "Boring," was the one word he said before closing his eyes again.

"Do you think it's possible to change your class by avoiding the skills of your original one and learning the skills of another?"

"There are not many documented cases of class changes except for the slave phenomenon."

"I see." And Jaune did indeed see.

The conversation, if you could call it that, broke off after that.

-/-

"We're gonna go outside to train hand-to-hand. Wanna come?" Sun's words roused Jaune from his sleep. Looking outside of their little window, he saw that the sun had just risen.

Noticing that the monkey boy was still waiting for an answer, Jaune waved him off. Expect for the curiosity of why they were doing unarmed combat training now, when they hadn't done so once in the last few months here, he wasn't really interested.

He couldn't imagine that the skill would really fit into his own skillset either. He had quite a few swords taking up space in his inventory, which made getting disarmed not as big of a threat as it was to some people. Unless he was literally dis-armed. That would probably set him behind for a bit.

No matter how you looked at it, wielding a weapon was always going to be more beneficial to everyone except maybe a monk or a brawler, and even those classes still used gauntlets, which could be considered a type of weapon.

Instead of laying back and trying to go back to the shared dreamspace he pulled out a few papers on which he'd scribbled the happenings of the kingdom.

At first he had thought he would connect everything seamlessly and maybe solve the issue of the momentary upheaval. At least theoretically. But he'd given up on that after an hour of the intellectual equivalent of hitting his head against a wall.

Now he only kept the papers due to the fact that paper wasn't cheap and he still had some free space to write on, and the fact that the happenings were genuinely interesting. He still didn't know who exactly was fighting, and what they were trying to achieve. But he'd discerned several methods of the attacks used. One was the banditry, used to discredit certain trade companies, lowering their credibility and income, thus negatively impacting all who were allied with them. That form of... he didn't know if he could call it political(?) attack was the one he'd spent the most time untangling. One of his friends having been affected by it, and all.

The others were a mix of assassination and propaganda. Key figures of the government, of guilds, and even independent people with influence were dying of natural causes. The natural part being that you didn't live if you had a dagger sticking out of your ribs.

There also seemed to be so many rumours, writs, and revealed documents flying around that it was impossible to discern which ones were true.

All in all, it was chaos.

It still escaped Jaune how exactly people responsible for a country could act like this, but so was the mystery of life.

Arcane bolts flickered on and off in his two hands as he thought over the issue and wrote down some of the thoughts he was willing to waste ink on.

Peculiar events aside… there was nothing, Jaune thought. He had nothing to do or think about. After he fully exhausted his mana with arcane bolt practice, he left his room to go outside and train his sword skills.

He laughed quietly to himself as he saw Sun getting smacked around by May's grandfather. May herself was sitting in the general area of the two and watching.

He waved at her; she noticed him and waved back. Meanwhile Jaune had already arrived at his destination.

The garrison they were at was unsurprisingly not particularly big. It was simply a place where soldiers were stationed. No civilians, therefore less space was needed. This of course also meant that the training grounds were comparably small. It made the spot where Jaune usually trained swordsmanship with the soldiers directly next to the archery range and to the now on-the-ground wrestling duo of May and Sun.

One of the soldiers approached him, two wooden swords in his hands, casually throwing one to Jaune as he took up a fighting stance. There were some soldiers eager to improve their fighting ability, and it was a novelty for them to be able to try their hand at fighting a hero.

Even if the hero, or adventurer in this case, was thirteen years old.

Jaune didn't bother with any pleasantries. The other party was only a soldier after all. He simply went on the offensive. A few fast stabs at his opponent's midsection put him in an advantageous position, at least until the soldier realised that he was stronger than Jaune and also had a much longer reach due to his age. He then used this to turn the tables on the mage.

Stepping around the wild attacks wasn't a problem for him, but going back on the offensive was. You didn't win a fight just by not getting hit. In this situation it was preferable to wait though. The situation being that for once Jaune was the one who was better at using a sword. Pure physical might was only able to remain dominant up to the point until the worse swordsman of the two made a mistake that was exploitable by the better swordsman.

The soldier overextended with a wide slash that Jaune ducked under. By the widening of his eyes he knew what was coming. A stab in the stomach only made the man retreat a little, having already preemptively hardened his abdominal muscles. That didn't save him from the loss as Jaune simply stepped forward and slightly waved the sword in close proximity to the soldiers neck.

Jaune saw a mix of disappointment and anger make its way to the man's face, mostly at himself hopefully. Being angry at a sparring partner for being better than you wasn't very productive.

Jaune stepped back and once again entered a ready position. It was always more fun to go several bouts with one person, seeing the sluggish pace they improved at in comparison to his own faster one.

Invigorating.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

 **Edited by: 5th dimension**

* * *

Jaune bit into the hard bread served in the canteen. The soldiers that used him as a sparring partner laughed as he had to spasm his head like a dog to rip off a chunk of the rubbery thing. An entrance into the bun made, he then ripped it apart into several small pieces.

Summoning an arcane bolt, he dunked it in the water, some of the fluid remaining in the magical construct. He added the pieces of bread to it and proceeded to spin it at high enough speed for the mana to start making a sound. A few seconds later he let it dissipate, the previously rubbery pieces of bread falling onto his plate, moist and ready for consumption.

"You know," Gary or something started next to him, "You could just dunk it into the tea and wait a bit like an average mortal." By the smile on his face, he was just ribbing him.

Eager to show off his mastery of navigating humorous situations among adults, Jaune sagely nodded. "No u."

The ones in the group who had been drinking spat out their drinks in what was surely a rehearsed action and started thumping their chests while trying not to laugh. The rest didn't have water in their lungs to inhibit them from such an action and raucous laughter rang out around Jaune.

"Never change, sir," one of them said while patting Jaune on the shoulder, causing him to frown.

"That's hard to do, can't stop myself from growing." Which caused another round of laughter.

"No matter how much I enjoy your party's presence here," Barry said in a somewhat sarcastic tone (if Jaune remembered correctly he had been the one forced to give up his single room to accommodate a hero of Zedong's status), "but how come you haven't left yet? I think the original quest was supposed to last a few months."

The main issue was that the unrest in the country hadn't resolved itself yet. Jaune was sure it would reach its climax soon though. Their mission had been to help out the understaffed garrison due to the higher Grimm activity caused by the political spats. Since the spats weren't over yet, neither was their mission.

"What can I say? I've come to enjoy myself here. What's there to not love? Water, a bed, and the ladies." Jaune winked at a female soldier that just walked past him in that moment, probably hearing his sentiment. She gave him a disgusted look.

A slap resounded as Larry hit him on the back. "Good man, good man." Jaune soon found himself with a bottle of smuggled in alcohol listening to some stories of soldier life and telling his highly-edited tale of conquering the sword god's pyramid.

With less of him tripping over ruts and more epic battles, in which he and and his trusted sidekick Jain always emerged victorious despite numerous odds against them.

-/-

"There have been reports of smugglers coming in from the capital. They were followed to this general area before the tracker lost contact." Targson, the leader of the garrison pointed at a part of the map that was marked with a red dot. Around it was a bigger green circle. The man pointed at it with his stick. "This is the area where we suspect there to be a tunnel." He looked at his audience of soldiers, two bored mages, and a young archer.

"You will be scouting out this ground over the next week, if you can't find anything, that's that. This isn't our job, but it is an order handed down from higher up. Just show me some reports that indicate that you tried to find this..." Here the man made a gesture with his fingers that Jaune couldn't interpret, wagging his pointer and middle finger up and down. "'...alleged' smuggling tunnel, hideout, or whatever. Any questions?"

Jaune didn't know why, but he had a weird feeling about the mission. Maybe it was that he'd been reading up on shady tactics in the past few months, or that a tracker lost sight of his quarry in this particular area, or a smuggling operation even coming to this particular area that triggered warning bells.

It seemed to be fairly low quality bait. A simple missive from Headquarters, no messenger, no nothing. Pinpointing the tunnel on a map and maybe paying off a bandit troupe or someone to draw Grimm to the garrison while it was understaffed didn't particularly take a lot of effort.

He couldn't imagine someone drawing up a plan like that and then executing it so sloppily. It was low effort though, which made it possible to try out the same thing among several of the border bases at the same time. The more Jaune thought about it, the more plausible it seemed.

He didn't say anything though. His age alone would be a detractor from arguments he made. Sun, May, and he had only entered the debriefing because they were interested in what such a thing usually looked like. In the end it was the same boring affair you got from the guild before you went on a quest.

"I have some suspicions about this." Jaune turned to May. "Where is your grandfather?"

"He said he was going to lie down a bit in his room. I think the sparring under the sun affected him a bit," she said.

Jaune nodded. It had been slightly hotter than usual the last few weeks. It was manageable due to the lack of humidity, the dry heat being bearable. But he didn't know how someone Zedong's age was dealing with it.

"The story is full of holes," Sun idly said as they arrived at their party leader's room. They knocked and entered, finding the old man lying on his bed writing something in a journal.

Zedong looked up briefly before concentrating on his task again. "What is it?"

"Suspicious orders from higher up." Jaune proceeded to explain the situation, Zedong eventually stopping his scribbling and listening intently.

"Yes, sounds suspicious as hell. Why did the guy lose track of the target here? Why would there be a checkpoint of a smuggling operation at the ass end of nowhere? And there's some other more minor questions..." the old man half-said, half-grumbled to himself before looking up at them. "What do you three think?"

"Think its a bunch of bullshit," Sun proclaimed without hesitation, grinning all the way. The grin left his face as Jaune slapped the back of the monkey's head to shut him up.

"I think someone is trying to get men out of the garrison so that it can be overrun by Grimm or bandits. Creating statistics that can then be used to indicate the incompetence of some official responsible for this area or generally associated with the military." The fast pace of words exiting Jaune's mouth made everybody blink idly for a few moments trying to comprehend it.

"Succinctly put." The words came from old archer. "It still might be a coincidence though, and a stupid one at that. I've had some quite momentous ones in the past. Oftentimes when weird things happen, nobody planned them, just coincidence. We should probably stay alert and watch for any weird behaviour though."

"Is there really nothing we can do in preparation?" May asked.

Sun shrugged. "Kill more Grimm."

"I guess I could try to let my senses expand over the entirety of the garrison and try to catch something suspicious," Jaune muttered.

"Sun's right. I'll start preparing some special arrows. Killing more Grimm will weaken any horde trying to form and give us more time before one arrives in the aftermath of a more human attack." May agreed with Sun, ignoring Jaune's suggestion. As if he cared. Really.

They all looked at Zedong.

The man blinked at them, deadpan. "What? You all get it. Only thing I can add is to start packing in case we have to make a quick getaway. Also, try to run everywhere armed. I'll sound the horn if anything weird starts happening. Come to me if I do," he added almost as an afterthought.

When he noticed them all still standing there he quickly barked out. "You're heroes not soldiers; you don't wait for dismissal!"

The three of them quickly shuffled out of the room and split up. Jaune headed back to his room where he pulled out a miniature map of the garrison he'd been making in his free time. The miniature aspect was due to the fact he didn't have much paper. After looking at the thing, confirming everything was kind of correct, he determined the most optimal position to place himself.

The kitchen. He even had an excuse ready for entering the place, not that anyone would care really. That's why he picked the kitchen and not the document storage room that was slightly more in the middle than the kitchen. Even if he found it odd that the place where food for the whole base was made was less guarded than some dusty, likely outdated information.

Even so. All according to plan.

-/-

Jaune entered the kitchen as if he belonged there, looked around, and noted several people cutting stuff and the only person with the cook class stirring a big pot over a fire. Casually weaving among the drafted kitchen soldiers, the wooden countertops, and the occasional ingredient, he found his way to the corner of the room that he thought to be the closest to the centre of the garrison.

He then proceeded to sit down, idly watching one slightly overweight man looking at him, sweating. He nodded at the man, causing him to blanch slightly. Cooking must have been harder than Jaune previously thought if a soldier, even if he was chubby, worked up such a sweat while doing it.

Jaune closed his eyes, acting as if he was meditating. Although he doubted that soldiers knew of that particular discipline. Not a moment later he was interrupted by a young woman. Soldier. "Ah, excuse me."

"Yes, what is it?" Jaune sighed, then smiled slightly as he noticed how pretty she was. Exceptionally pale for Vacuo with flaxen hair woven in a braid.

"You're technically not allowed to be here." The woman bit her lip as if considering something. "But..." she said slowly, not finishing the sentence.

"But what?" Jaune asked.

"But if you were to help slightly you would count as an assistant," she said cheerfully, as if patting herself on the back for a good idea.

Jaune shrugged. If helping a little meant he got to stay here. "Ok." He was then lead to a wooden counter. The soldier pressed a knife into his hand, the table in front of him already containing several uncut and a few quartered potatoes. There weren't many of them so he simply got to work. Once done with them, he looked around for the woman to tell her he was done.

Only for the mustachioed cook, Franzschua, to come up to his counter and slap him on the back smiling widely. "Not many people interested in learning to cook, and humble enough to start with the basics. Keep it up lad. The peeler's in one of the drawers, and once you're done with the barrel I'll show you some real skills, ok?" The man winked at him and walked off to do his own thing.

Jaune looked next to the wooden counter he'd been working on, the space occupied by a barrel full of unpeeled potatoes. He looked for the woman he'd talked with earlier.

She wasn't present.

Jaune looked at the barrel again, then at the enthusiastic, ridiculously friendly-looking cook, then back to the barrel.

That fucking bitch.

-/-

Jaune hadn't managed to simply leave, not wanting to put a damper on the cooks enthusiasm for having a willing student for once. He peeled the potatoes in the barrel, eventually finding out that if he enveloped one of the things in an arcane bolt and spun it, the skin would just fly off.

Noticing this, Franzschua immediately came over to peer over his shoulder as Jaune continued with the technique. "Ç'est unbelievable," the cook muttered before leaving again.

Using this, he finished the barrel quickly, earning some praise from Franzschua who then proceeded to tell him how to cut and spice stuff. Do not quarter onions; only make fine strips or they lose their taste. Just dissolve the salt and pepper in some water, then add it to the pan after you're done cooking.

All in all it was useful information for the future and would make all meals more pleasant. Hell, he'd even enjoyed it. The cook's happy attitude and love for his craft was infectious. "I'll definitely come tomorrow as well. You can show me how to make steak then if you're feeling really grateful," Jaune said, earning him another slap on the back and a hearty laugh.

"Do that, do that, peel some potatoes while listening too! That magic thing you did was hilarious!" the cook exclaimed. He led Jaune to the doors and sent him off.

Jaune looked out the window to gauge the time. Damn, three hours lost. Err, used to learn a skill that would come in handy. He collapsed to the ground soundlessly and leaned on the sandy wall. Cooking was exhausting. He felt some slightly sympathy for the drafted soldiers. It would have been more, but he felt that if you just tried to enjoy the activity it could be quite fun.

It was only natural for people to suffer silently instead of trying to improve their situation, though. Not everyone was intelligent enough to realize the futility of nihilism.

Jaune delved into his mind to do what he had actually came here to do. At first he simply used dimensional comprehension, not trying anything fancy with it. Then he slowly started expanding it until it encircled the entire garrison. It was growing slightly sketchy at the borders, but he could make out what was there.

Jaune started to comb through everywhere, which was a tedious process. He could instinctively focus on rapid movements near him, which was either something built into the skill itself, or his subconscious acting in his interests. Doing it was tedious because he was still limited by his low wisdom and intelligence. He wasn't sure which one of the two helped with comprehension of magical skills, but due to the lack of points in these two stats he was only able to strongly focus on a small area of the overall reach of the skill.

He blushed as he found two soldiers having a what he could only politely assume to be naked wrestling match. He quickly looked away, but not before cursing the female of the pair as a bitch when he noticed she was Franzi, the soldier who'd tricked him.

Continuing through the rest of the base at a snail's pace, he was able to scout out about a quarter of it before he feeling too mentally fatigued to keep using the skill. His brain felt like it was cramping up. He tried to relax his mind, which helped. But without the pain being so penetrating… penetrating? Jaune held a hand to his mouth, trying to not puke.

He didn't manage, but was still able to lean out of the window so as to not dirty the floors.

Done with his spewage he sat back down, feeling much better.

Adults were gross.

-/-

Jaune listened as Sun and May reported their progress. Sun had apparently, with the help of Zedong later on, managed to kill quite a lot of Grimm. Listening to him he'd wiped the area completely clean, which with the help of someone as experienced as the old archer, might have just been possible. Zedong was able to fire arrows from a tremendous range. Technically speaking, he could just lock himself into one of the towers on the hills surrounding the garrison and exterminate every enemy within a certain diameter.

Jaune didn't have enough data points to estimate how big the diameter was, but from the fact that May alone was able to accurately shoot from a distance of 300 feet, he assumed that her grandfather was capable of at least double that.

His eyes roved over the arrows that May laid down to show them. It was one of her skills, arrow preparation. By working on arrows she could imbue certain effects into them, though at her level it wasn't really an effect but a percentage-based buff on one attribute. For example, twenty-three percent to piercing damage. The arrows themselves were absent of mana. The only thing differentiating them from others of their kind were the slight engravings on their shaft.

It didn't really make sense to him. There were skills that were magic in all but name. The thing May was doing with her arrows was literally enchanting, just without the mana. Though her use of the skill wasn't managed by an arbitrary energy supply, but by a specific cooldown timer. It had its advantages and disadvantages of course. Jaune could summon arcane bolts all he wanted, unrestrained by time, but without mana, it was like trying to cook a meal without a fire.

What bothered him was the inconsistency of it. It was like the game developer had made it a rule that only mages had mana in the conception of the system and were too lazy to even bother with the issue of how the skills of other classes were regulated.

Cooldowns didn't really make sense. They didn't stand for physical incapability; the person whose physical skill was on cooldown could move around perfectly fine. Or did they?

"Jaune."

It was something he could test, find a soldier, have him use a skill and count the cooldown, then train the soldier up to a point where the fitness lev-

"Jaune!"

Jaune looked up, annoyed at the disturbance, at May, who had shouted his name. "What," he growled out, causing the duo to stare at him oddly.

"Are you on your perio-" Sun began asking before May jabbed him in the side with her elbow, blushing.

She turned to Jaune. "What have you discovered?"

The question made Jaune blink. "Not much really, but I think I might be on to something concerning the relation between cooldowns of physical skills and stats."

This only drew further confused and slightly concerned glances. "No, we're asking about the scouting that you supposedly did with your sensing skill," May said slowly.

"Oh, that. Nothing in particular really. There seems to be an escape tunnel underneath the garrison leading from a locked room by the commander's chamber to somewhere out of my range."

"Well, that's probably something to keep an eye on. Any mechanisms that prevent people from using it as anything but an escape tool?" Sun asked from where he was suddenly leaning on the window sill.

Jaune shrugged. "I wouldn't know. There are some mechanical doors and such, but I don't know what they do." This apparently warranted a surprised look from Sun. Jaune glowered back.

"And here I thought you knew a bit of everything." Sun sighed. "Good job," he added as an afterthought.

The good job part was unwarranted. He'd only located the tunnel that every garrison had, and that everyone knew every garrison had. He'd also found out that apparently people would rather spend most of their days fucking away in some broom closets, rather than, he didn't know, training or something.

Would probably help them more in the long run. The average life of a soldier wasn't really all that exciting from what he'd inferred during his time here, so they had the time to train their combat ability. Hell there were some books here. Intelligence and knowledge would get one higher up in the ranks, leading to a higher salary and a higher social status with which one could acquire more high-levelled bed partners and in general a longer life due to the vitality one gained from actually training. And the natural fact that one gained more experience the better one was at killing things.

To lower the chance of success for the momentary pleasure of fucking some women who everyone else in the base had probably also bedded… It wasn't a progression of thought Jaune could follow.

People argued that if you never spent any time relaxing you would forget how to, making the pursuit of power worthless. The mage preferred to think that you immediately won the moment attaining skills and power became your favourite free time activity. After all, the action of training then became doubly weighted. It had the long-term advantage in improvement and the momentary one of relaxation and fun. The best of both worlds.

Training without fun wasn't as effective and tired you out quicker, while fun without training only wasted time, energy, and ultimately brought you nothing. Expect for maybe some sexually transmitted diseases in the case of the soldiers.

"Aaaaaand he's gone again."

* * *

 **Jaune Arc of Aschen**

 **Level 15**

 **Dimensional Mage**

 **str: 13**

 **con: 16**

 **Dex: 11**

 **Agi: 15**

 **Int: 15**

 **Wis: 22**

 **Reg: 1**

 **Unique Passive (semblence) (active): Arcane Bolt (Journeyman)**

 **Fire a bolt of arcane magic**

 **Swordsmanship (passive) (Apprentice)**

 **Wield a sword.**

 **Sword return(active) (neophyte)**

 **return sword you own to self.**

 **Dimensional comprehension(passive)**

 **Understand what, was not meant, by human minds, to be understood.**

 **Shared dreamspace(active)**

 **share dreams with beings you would otherwise never have a chance to meet.**

 **Inventory(active)**

 **Store things in an extradimensional space.**

* * *

 **Someone asked me for this, so here it is. This is the last chapter, that will have less than 4k words.**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

 **Edited by: 5th dimension**

 **The story will be going on break for about two months due to final exams. Wanted to release the end of the arc before that so here it is.**

 **I've also been working on some original stories, just the concepts and the first chapters. They might become available on sites like Fictionpress, Royalroad, Space Battles and Sufficient Velocity soon enough.**

 **Prerequisites for Greatness will be continued normally, maybe on a once a month schedule instead of a once every three weeks one.**

 **I've always wondered about the gender spectrum of my audience actually. Fanfiction is predominantly female (in my opinion), but I get the feeling that many of my readers are male. Maybe I will gain more of a female audience once Jaune starts taking it up the ass by various people.**

 **Drop your gender combined with a few words stroking my intellectual girth in the review section. I get feedback, you guys get to feel like you're a part of something, satisfying your intrinsic social nature and more people read my story because it has a higher rating. Everyone wins.**

* * *

Jaune hadn't been able to find anything else even slightly relevant despite numerous tries, May had prepared quite an amount of arrows, Sun had levelled up, and Jaune had gotten some more practice using his sensing skill.

A worthy contribution to the team effort, he thought sarcastically. The self-deprecation was the reason he was in the kitchen making himself a fancy meal. Food in general improved mood, the body taking the fact that it was eating as a sign that since the person controlling it was relaxed enough to do so, there was no danger. The quality of the meal only improved the calming sensation.

Jaune idly noted a soldier, one not garbed in kitchen wear, enter and beckon the cook to him. Today was the day that the patrol was scheduled to come back. Franzshua was probably being informed he would have to start making the standard meal portions again so that there was enough for everyone.

Something many will lament over, Jaune thought. The quantity had decreased, but meanwhile the quality had soared. People would be disappointed to see the opposite happen again.

An arcane bolt flew from over his right shoulder to hit one of the kitchen soldiers in the gut. She bent over and before anyone could react, Jaune was suddenly clutching the woman's hair and propelling her head into the direction of his knee.

A wet crack resounded, and the woman collapsed to the ground, clutching her red-splattered face. Jaune idly noted that it was Franzi, the woman who'd tricked him, before his boot smashed into her head again, cracking the back of it against the hard stone floor and knocking her unconscious.

He bent down, sensing how everyone in the room had drawn a weapon and were pointing them at him. Jaune picked up a small leather pouch. He stood and turned to face the room, holding it up.

It was definitely a different feeling, seeing several people armed and ready to come at you. He spied the overweight man he'd noted on his first day in the kitchen, the one who'd sweated and blanched when seeing Jaune looking at him, ah, _stealthily_ exit the room.

He let him, preferring his next words to be about the poison he was now holding instead of the probable accomplice.

"She tried to poison the soup," he said simply into the quiet room, showcasing the leather pouch even more by holding it further up.

Franzshua clapped once to get everyone's attention. "Okay, show's over, leave the kitchen!" The cook pointed at a random man, "You, get Targson over here!"

Jaune continued to stand there, having a bit of a clash of stares with the soldiers. Which soon devolved into the two parties pulling faces at each other, a move Jaune had started to lighten the mood.

Not to have fun.

"Report," Targson said briskly as he entered the room.

One of the men (Jaune wondered how they knew who was to give the report) stepped forward. "While everybody was distracted by the news of the patrol's return, Adventurer Jaune Arc attacked Soldier Franzi who was walking towards the cooking pot, when on all accounts she should have been huddled next to the messenger like the rest due to her propensity for gossip. She was knocked unconscious and Arc procured a pouch of what he claims to be poison powder that fell from her hand during the scuffle." The soldier rattled it all off fairly quickly. Jaune wondered if he had already been mentally preparing the report.

"Arc has since then not taken any movements that could be interpreted as hostile," the soldier helpfully added.

-/-

In the end, the female soldier was transferred to the holding cells while Jaune joined the commander in going to his office.

"There was another soldier acting suspicious," Jaune said idly as he hurried to keep up with Targson's frantic pace. Man, being a commander must be taxing. Jaune would never accept such a responsibility if he had a choice.

"Out with it," the man growled out.

"He snuck out when everybody else was drawing weapons and preparing to try and subdue me. He was also frightened when I first came to the kitchen."

"Name."

Jaune shrugged. "Don't remember," he said dismissively, earning another growl. "But he was the only fat soldier I've ever seen at this base."

"Winston then," Jaune heard the commander mutter.

"It would make sense, they were both ne-" Targson stopped once he noticed that Jaune was still there.

"Why are you following me?" the man asked, almost exasperated. He went and whispered something to a nearby soldier who then ran off while Jaune formulated an answer. Probably sending people after Winston.

"Idk, bored."

Targson groaned. "I appreciate what you did. If it's true she was trying to poison us it was imperative that you stopped her, but leave the rest to me. I'll handle it."

Just like he'd handled two new soldiers having access to their entire food supply, Jaune snarked in his mind. But rather than staying where he was unwanted, he left. Zedong would have to be informed after all.

-/-

Jaune found his team leader camping out on the palisades, telescope at hand. "Someone was trying to poison the food," Jaune said, walking up to Zedong and receiving a brief look. The man quickly went back to looking though his telescope.

"I know, I heard everything."

Jaune blinked.

That was stupid. Nobody had hearing that good. Being able to listen in on a conversation or occurrence on the other side of what was basically a small compound was ridiculous. Nobody had senses that good. And even if they did, they wouldn't be able to make out anything in particular due to all the noise.

Which meant it must have been a skill. Now that he thought about it, only the three youngest of the group had shared their skills with each other. Could have been helpful to know earlier, but ok, maybe the old man had trust issues.

"Range?" Jaune asked.

Zedong removed the telescope from his eye and wordlessly handed it to Jaune. "We have bigger problems, take a look at the towers." A deflection of his question.

"What towers…?" Jaune muttered, and set the device to his eye, taking a minute to adjust it, to find the furthest tower that was still close enough for him to make out if there was a fire lit on top.

He needn't have bothered. A fire was lit on a tower that he could see without the telescope. The soldiers stationed there had access to the devices as well, and it was their job to keep watch and set the flames. Would have been odd if Jaune had found out before them. Though Zedong apparently had.

Then it hit him what the fires actually meant.

"Ah fuck," Jaune cursed, something he'd almost managed to train himself out of.

Well, it appeared that he was about to suffer a rebound. A Grimm horde was coming. There would be plenty of opportunities to curse.

-/-

Suffice to say, the patrol that was supposed to come back that day, didn't. While everyone was frantically running around, preparing, Jaune found himself oddly unaffected, calm even despite the fact that he had felt the escape tunnel in the commander's chamber collapse under its own weight after the fatso, Winston, had escaped through it. It cut off another avenue of retreat, but there was nothing to be done about that now.

Jaune found himself looking at the garrison. How would the potential battle with the Grimm turn out? Would there be one? The back was free from the monsters after all. Zedong could issue a retreat anytime.

He had the feeling it was going to come to a fight though. He didn't really know why.

Jaune tapped the wooden spikes that jutted out from the wall that surrounded the outpost. Not stone sadly. The buildings themselves, sparse as the four of them were, were made of limestone.

It suddenly hit him how fragile the entire place was. It would survive Beowolves and Creeps. But what about Ursas? Hell, what about the Nevermore? Jaune didn't see any ballistae, nor were there any reliable long-range attackers expect for Zedong.

Could the attempted poisoning be connected to the forming of the horde? If so, then how? Grimm weren't controllable. The only possible way that Jaune could think of to attract the Grimm was to torture thousands to death in a set location. That would certainly draw the things like flies to a turd.

...Maybe have a high level hero with sufficient agility run circles around Grimm for several days until he eventually had a following that could be described as a horde? Did Grimm have enough of a mind for mind mages to affect them? Ok, scratch being the only possible way, there were most likely dozens. Hundreds even, when you brought into play classes and magic Jaune himself didn't know of.

Jaune sighed. He should have just ran after the fatso. His dimensional comprehension would have come in handy in stopping the guy from sneaking to the escape tunnel and somehow collapsing it. He had been more afraid of the soldiers that had their weapons pointed at him at the time, and had prioritized informing Zedong who apparently already knew of the issue.

What a salad this entire situation was.

The only thing Jaune did over the next hour was idly watch the riders that left their watchtowers, fires still lit, to come to the garrison. He wondered how the incoming soldiers were going to feel about the fact that there was no retreat planned.

An odd decision in itself. Garrisons like these were meant to be stationed on the outside to provide a camp from which people could go out into the Grimmlands, to limit the amount of monsters entering civilized living space. They weren't meant, or built, to survive against a Grimm horde. Though... what was a horde even?

Maybe it was manageable? The patrol soldiers also hadn't come back yet, which made it unlikelier by the minute that they ever would. After all, a sea of black didn't allow for easy passage. Maybe they'd been betrayed, their rations poisoned by another central Vacuo shill.

It wasn't long before Zedong returned, having gone off sometime during Jaune's thought marathon. He brought Sun and May with him. The man started describing the plan while noticeably tense. "I spoke with Targson; we'll stand our ground," Zedong declared, just as Jaune had feared. Probably seeing the fear in their eyes, Zedong reassured them, "You don't have to worry about it, if things get Grimm I have a way out for all four of us." He didn't sound particularly reassuring; Jaune wasn't the only one who heard the implied probably in those words, and he wasn't distracted by the bad joke.

"What are we gonna be doing? Sun's rather unfortunate case of wanting to turn into a melee class aside, we're all fairly ranged." That earned Jaune a glower. "Also, the thing that might get us out if things turn to shit would be better to know now than get surprised with later."

Jaune kept eye contact with the man as he was mustered.

"I am in possession of a summoning scroll for a wind eagle," Zedong grudgingly said, very quietly. Jaune almost hadn't heard him. "It's supposed to be able to carry two adults," he continued. Then shrugged.

That clarified things. They would probably all fit on it. Zedong was old, and the three of them were young. Jaune was almost confident that if they didn't all fit, Sun would be the one left behind, but he cut off that thought before it was really able to form. Technically speaking, if they wouldn't all be able to fit, Zedong should stay beh-

Jaune violently smacked his head against a wooden pillar jutting out of the wall, earning concerned looks. "Don't worry, just conditioning myself," he reassured his team.

"What's the size?" Sun suddenly asked, earning a return question from Zedong.

"The size of what?"

"The horde."

"The classification of horde is only given to masses of more than nine-hundred seventeen Grimm, an arbitrary number. The Grimm approaching are at least double that number. They mostly seem to be compromised of Creeps and a few Beowolves. Nevermore haven't been spotted yet. The chances of us making it through with minimal casualties is fairly high."

The chances would have sunk by a lot if the poisoning had been successful. A thought suddenly popped into Jaune's head. "We had soldiers trying to poison the force. Who's to say nobody will just open the gates?"

A silence descended on the group of four.

"Wouldn't the person who did that die as well?" May broke it.

Zedong shook his head. "No, he's right. There are burrow and flight skills. The chance of the betrayer just being a golem or a mind-controlled puppet isn't zero either."

Sun groaned, "Ah man, miss me with that gay shit. Just tell us what to do. I feel like an idiot considering all the things that could happen." Sun's words gained a few chuckles, which had probably been his plan all along.

"Unless we have a way to detect those things, we just proceed as planned. May and I will be on the command centre, from where we will shoot when necessary. Jaune will be stationed in the kitchen, right next to the chimney actually, where he will look over the entrance to the garrison." Zedong halted, as if unsure. "And Sun will be with him for protection."

"Well."

"That sounds almost like a plan," Jaune muttered.

A plan for Zedong to knock his granddaughter unconscious and flee on the bird, leaving him and Sun behind. Jaune hadn't missed how Zedong had tried to keep his distance from them. Easier to leave people behind if you didn't really know them. He would have to stick to Zedong and hope his continuous presence would ensure that he would be taken with on the bird if things got spicy.

Sun too of course.

-/-

"You know, I was excited for this. Also scared," Sun said as he looked at the black mass as it roiled across the arid landscape and approaching their comparatively small fort. "But after these hours of waiting, I just feel bored out of my mind." Sun turned to look at Jaune for his opinion.

Only to find the mage sleeping on the floor, doing his best imitation of a starfish.

"Aren't you a bit too relaxed?" Sun muttered to himself.

Jaune, meanwhile, was frantically inspecting the building they were stationed on while pretending to sleep. The kitchen was situated a few feet away from the barracks, which in turn was connected to the top of the command centre where May and Zedong were by a gap several feet wide.

There were planks bridging all these buildings, but the planks didn't look particularly sturdy and several soldiers also wielding bows had already slipped and fell down. Somehow. The planks were likely to fall down if any type of enemy shook the building even slightly, so if Jaune wanted to be part of the escape he'd have to ditch the kitchen as quickly as possible. In the best case scenario, it'd be for a good reason. Spending all of his mana early would be a good excuse, but simply wasting a resource that could be used to save the soldiers he was actually semi-responsible for didn't fit well with him. If he acted like he had wasted too much mana and moved to the centre he would also be ditching them, since he was probably unable to aim efficiently from there.

Someone was approaching him. Jaune stood up. Sun's hand hovered for a second where his shoulder had previously been.

Looking at the approaching Grimm, he took note of the Nevermore first. Jaune wondered why such mindless beasts were approaching in a group. Nevermore were faster than land Grimm, so they should have theoretically flown ahead.

Jaune didn't feel much fear when looking at the horde; he was too busy thinking for fear. The Grimm moving in what was basically a formation was already warning enough that something was going on.

A horn resounded throughout the garrison. It was the signal for everyone to go to their assigned positions and prepare for enemy contact. Some soldiers capable of archery shot all of their arrows, while soldiers with pikes set up at an entrance made strong enough to withstand some blows, but shoddy enough that it would break down after several minutes of continuous assault.

They didn't want to be attacked from all sides, after all. One point of entry was much easier to contain.

Cries of "For Vacuo, for grilled cheese, for glory!" resounded throughout the courtyard below where most of the soldiers were. Jaune felt himself grow stronger as the buff washed over him, increasing his stats by a small amount. The skill _raise morale,_ a soldier-exclusive, was quite useful. Sadly it didn't stack.

The Grimm were about to be on them any moment now. Some were praying, raising necklaces to their mouths, and kissing them, and some were joking around with their friends.

Jaune meanwhile, was still stuck on the possibility of the Grimm being controlled by someone. They were more dangerous if controlled, that was sure. If someone was doing so, what were the chances that the controller could do so without being able to see the Grimm?

"Hey Sun," Jaune said to the wide-eyed monkey faunus who was clutching his staff a bit too tightly but seemed otherwise calm.

"What," Sun snapped.

Ok, maybe not so calm.

"Can you look around a bit on places overlooking the garrison? See if you can spot the glint of sunlight that a telescope produces," Jaune said calmly.

"The Grimm will be here anytime now."

Jaune shrugged. "Even if they come, you won't be immediately needed."

"Alright then," Sun muttered and started jerking his head in all directions, as if to catch a thief sneaking up to take his sweetroll.

Jaune pulled out the telescope that he hadn't given back to Zedong yet and started looking around as well. Just as he set the thing up to his right eye he heard Sun say, "Found it."

"What?" Fast.

Sun pointed at the closest light tower, the fires on top still blazing, warning everyone about approaching Grimm.

Peering quickly through the telescope, Jaune quickly found the outline of a person on the roof of the thing. Arrogant. He would have been harder to spot had he simply stood at the base of the tower, back to the wall.

Jaune wasn't able to discern much, except that the person standing there had long hair. Probably a woman, dressed completely in black. They were also waving their arms around for what might have been a ritual, or was it a shamanistic dance? Jaune wasn't sure. What he was sure of was that Zedong should probably know.

"Good job Sun, you might have just saved our lives," Jaune said, patting Sun on the back and making his way across the wooden planks carefully. It would be fairly ironic were he to fall down now and break his neck.

"I did?" Jaune heard Sun mutter behind him.

Soon enough Jaune managed to make his way by the soldiers occupying the rooftops to Zedong, who immediately snapped at him. "What are you doing here? The Grimm will crash soon!"

Jaune hurried with his words to stop the man from getting a heart attack. It wasn't healthy for a face to be that shade of red. "The Grimm are acting weirdly, maybe controlled. We found someone overlooking the entire battlefield working some type of ritual..." Jaune pointed at the tower where he could almost spot a small speck on the top. "...on that tower there."

He quickly pulled out the telescope and handed it to the Zedong just as the old man's hands went looking for it at his belt. The thing was ripped from Jaune's hand, and he marvelled at the old man's agility as he confirmed Jaune's information.

"Well," he said, his solemn tone a contrast to his odd getup of an outdated rangers uniform. The sleeveless look generally didn't fit people above the age of forty.

"Can you do anything grandpa, maybe summon the bird and have us fly over there?" May suddenly asked from where she was crouching down next to them.

Zedong chuckled. "Well, do I have to?" Gaining some odd looks, Zedong explained, smiling. "I was able to see the class of the person on the tower. It was light bender, which suggests the Grimm aren't being controlled, but are an illusion." He shook his head. "I don't understand the point of the attack. The illusions will simply disperse once they crash into the walls."

Suddenly shouts of "The enemy is upon us," and "Hold the line!" resounded. Some screams echoed out shortly after.

Interpreting Jaune's look correctly, the man drew his bow, muttering a, "I can blow up the tower, should disrupt whatever is being done."

"Yes," Jaune said before he made his way back to Sun. There was nothing more to do after all. He had delivered the information.

A shadow swooped over his location, startling him, and he looked up to see the Nevermore circling over the garrison. Weird, it hadn't made any sounds. Usually Nevermore cawed, especially when going for prey.

Not that he focused on it closer, the Grimm looked very slightly blurry at the edges, and was also producing no sound at all. He should have been able to hear its ridiculously big wings flapping even over the din of combat. Some stray arrows flew past it, and some flew through it.

Jaune snorted. "Stop wasting arrows on the flier! I'll take care of it!" he shouted, voice breaking in the middle. Damn. He got some odd looks but otherwise no reaction.

Until the person apparently in charge of this rooftop bellowed, "You heard the mage, get going to the Grimm throwing themselves at our walls!" Franzschua commanded loudly, making the soldiers drop their bows and start huddling away.

They didn't seem to trust him that much from what he saw of their glances. But that didn't matter. An arcane bolt made of most of his mana flew like a homing arrow and struck the Nevermore right in the chest as it swooped down to aggressively flaunt its size to the people below.

The arcane bolt unfurled. Jaune didn't know how the illusion was created, but whatever it was, the arcane energy disrupted the magic holding everything together. The Nevermore broke apart like a statue made of brittle stone. The stone in this case was replaced by rays of light. The rays broke apart in the sky in a beautiful firework of sparkles, and the looks Jaune was receiving turned from distrustful to unbelieving, then to worship.

Jaune hurried over to Sun, where he could get a good shot at the Grimm trying to break in. It was mayhem at the gates. They had been broken through already, and apparently not all the Grimm were illusions. There were already corpses lying on the ground and the thick black smoke of decomposing Grimm polluted the air.

A tremendous boom resounded from somewhere far away.

What the fuck had Zedong done?! Jaune sent an arcane bolt at a soldier distracted by the sound, the weak spell pushing him over just far enough to evade the claws of a Beowulf. The Grimm missed, overextended, and promptly got its head bashed in by Targson's warhammer.

"MOST OF THEM WERE ILLUSIONS!" The man heaved with his weapon, face scrunching up and divested another Grimm of its head before continuing his shout, "KILL THE OUTNUMBERED BITCHES!" A strong buff washed over every human present.

The fight quickly turned in their favour after that. Targson's morale skill was apparently fairly high.

The soldiers' morale was already high due to the sudden disappearance of almost two-thirds of the enemy. Targson's buff, Jaune would later found out, worked as a multiplier with the morale, making it directly increase someone's stats to a reasonable level.

Jaune had spent every single drop of his mana soon enough, always used in an attempt to save a soldier, never offensively. Some shots only remained attempts... Not willing to enter the confusing and brutal melee, Jaune hung back, picking up the bow of a dead soldier and shooting some arrows at the backline of the Grimm for the rest of the fight.

He was able to hit the things due to the training he had done with May, and he managed to wound two Grimm and save one soldier. The man still lost an arm. But at least his life was spared.

Sun had at some point left his side to help a bit with smacking down monsters. He was quite the sight for his age, staff whirling around him, though not powerfully enough to really hurt the Grimm. The monstrosities were a higher level variety than what they usually fought. But he was certainly creating a zone around himself where any and all attacks were simply smacked away, sometimes causing injury in the process. Soldiers rallied around Sun, protecting him and using the opportunities he created to kill Grimm.

Jaune ran out of arrows. The Grimm were almost all dead, but he could still do something. He turned around to pick up another quiver but froze at the sight of the watchtower that the illusionist had occupied.

Or at least, what remained of it. It was rubble on the ground, a small fire still burning somewhere in between the fallen rocks.

How?

If Zedong had such power why hadn't he simply eliminated the Grimm horde? Jaune asked himself before his rational mind quickly overtook the thought. It didn't require much power to collapse a building as long as one hit the right spot.

Even if there was no mind-boggling power to worship, being able to collapse a tall stone tower with an arrow hundreds, if not thousands of feet away was still quite impressive.

"I guess I still have a long way to go."

* * *

 **Bye Bye, Bye, Bye Bye Bye.**

 **Peacekeeper.**


	21. Chapter 21

**I've released a Harry Potter fanfic (reincarnation; gamer), I wrote back when I was sixteen, it was before I even started with this 'masterpiece'. Please note the age at which I wrote it. I was embarrassed to post it before since it's not as great as I would have liked it to be, but even if the only person likes it, and it makes their day, then it will be worth it.**

 **I'm releasing 3 chapters from yesterday (Friday), to Sunday, before falling back onto a schedule of a chapter every Saturday. I have 54 saved up so it should take while before it's done. If it gets popular enough, I might even continue it.**

 **Chapter 21**

 **Edited by: 5th dimension**

* * *

The battle ended soon. If you could call it a battle. Really, it had devolved into more of a skirmish/siege after the illusion had been dispelled.

But no matter what the correct term for the thing was, the aftermath looked devastating enough for Jaune. The place where the Grimm had congregated was filled with blood. Human blood. The corpses had been removed while Jaune had been recovering from slight mana exhaustion, but the sight had been burned into his mind. Approximately twenty corpses lying on the ground in different states of macabre deadness.

The bodies of the enemies were long gone, having dissipated into the wind. The achievement of the men, the slain Grimm, was becoming a memory, a statistic in a report. The smell remained though. Iron, shit, and death.

The deceased were luckier than some of the survivors, in Jaune's opinion. Had losing limbs always been so easy? One bite and a shake of the head and the appendage was gone. Jaune had wanted a dog in his youth, and still liked the animal due to their normally friendly nature. He was unsure if he would ever be able to look at one the same way ever again.

Jaune put the thoughts of dogs out of his mind as he noticed Sun waving him over. Amid reverent looks and whispered words of how he'd 'annihilated' that Nevermore, there were mumblings of his new title among the soldiers, Lightbreaker, given to him for the way he had 'banished' the monster.

The information that most of the Grimm were an illusion had spread quickly after the fight, but so did the information that Jaune had discovered the illusionist creating them and convinced the old archer to shoot the person down.

How that continued to grant him a grand title like Lightbreaker was a mystery to Jaune. The imagery of him breaking apart a creature of Grimm big enough to kill many soldiers with just one spell must have been visually impressive enough that the soldiers didn't care about it being not real.

"How fare you, Breaker of Light?" Sun asked as Jaune joined him.

"The title sounds good. I just wish I had earned it," Jaune replied as the two of them started making their way towards Zedong's room. The old man had to lay down due to exhaustion, and his granddaughter was taking care of him.

"I think you deserve a title, even if Illusionbane would have been more appropriate," Sun said more seriously than he usually uttered anything.

"Do I?"

"If you think you don't, change yourself to someone deserving of a title like that," Sun said brusquely.

And that was that.

"How is he?" Jaune asked May as they entered the room. Zedong was laying down, sweating slightly but otherwise looking mightily fine for an old man who'd participated in a fight.

"Grandpa used a skill he shouldn't at his age," May said, glaring accusingly at the man. "He will be fine, but shouldn't do anything strenuous for a few days." Zedong grumbled something, earning another sharp glare from his granddaughter.

Jaune was just about to suggest that they maneuver into a quiet corner and share everything they had been able to ascertain about the fight, when he was rudely interrupted by a knock on the door.

Might as well get it over with. Jaune opened his mouth to beckon the knocker in, only for the door to open before he had the chance. Targson entered, his usually immaculate appeared marred by a sling around his right arm and specks of blood on his face.

The heroes occupying the room stared at him.

Targson coughed and adjusted the collar of his uniform. "We had someone interrogating the spy while the battle was going on, in case she knew anything important."

"The poison was a rage-inducing one or something, wasn't it," Jaune more stated than asked. It made sense really. The illusions dispersed on a few hits and didn't actually possess any combat ability. If the poison had been something that simply killed or crippled the soldiers, there would have been no need for the illusionist in the first place.

All that the Grimm horde had been was a representation of a threat big enough to kill everyone in the garrison; it hadn't actually been all that dangerous, all things considered. But what if everyone in the base had been affected by a mental effect, like for example, anger? It would have led to a mutiny.

"Yes," Targson acknowledged. "Not as much rage-inducing as it would have lowered everyone's inhibitions and shattered their moral compass."

Zedong growled, earning a curious look from May. Jaune knew in which direction the old man's thoughts had gone, and by the grimace marring Sun's face he had come to the same conclusion about what would have probably happened to most females in the garrison, outnumbered by men who thought they were about to die and lacking any restraint.

Even Targson cringed as he interpreted the looks on their faces and looked at May.

"What?" she asked. Her face scrunched up cutely in concentration before she flatly uttered an "Oh."

"Thank you for bringing this to our attention. It will help us make a clearer picture of the situation and better anticipate any future attempts," Jaune said, nobody else in his group seemingly wanting to speak.

Targson gave a short nod directed at Jaune and left briskly.

Jaune felt a modicum of empathy and sadness for the man. Losing so many soldiers under his command, people he had probably known for years and definitely felt responsible for... Jaune could only be glad he hadn't lost anyone from his group. He put an arm around Sun and half-hugged him.

Sun shrugged him off with an elbow jab and called him a faggot.

-/-

Jaune finished writing all the information available to them on a small piece of paper, and then turned to Sun and May, who were looking over his shoulder.

"Anything?" Jaune asked as he handed over the scribblings.

May sighed while Sun squinted at the paper. "I can't make out anything but the word poison, and that's only because it's hard to make the letter o too small to read," he commented.

"What's the point of taking notes if we can't can read them? We'll be gone from here soon and there's paper in Brorusalem. You don't need to scrounge it," May said.

"I can process through written things better." Jaune said, trying to ignore their complaints.

"To sum it up, there were orders from high to send soldiers on a patrol, someone tried to poison us with a substance that would degrade morals, and one spy escaped through the tunnel and collapsed it. Meanwhile Grimm were led here, their numbers bolstered by an illusionist who, by the way, is still unaccounted for." Jaune finished and looked at his compatriots.

May was filing an arrowhead while Sun was trying to read his note upside down.

"I give up, your handwriting is way too bad," Sun muttered and put the note as far away from him as possible without standing up, as if it was carrying some infectious disease.

The sound of glass breaking rushed through Jaune's head, signalling the final nail in the coffin for his patience. His body acted before his mind could process the decision, head already mid-movement before he even noticed that he was doing something.

Jaune headbutted Sun to the ground and shouted at him, "Shut the fuck up you piece of shit monkey and learn how to read!"

-/-

Joanne balefully stared down at the letter lying on her work desk. The handwriting of her son stared back at her. It had somehow gotten worse. It turned from an illegible chickenscratch to a minimized impossible-to-read-without-a-magnifying-glass chickenscratch.

The date on the upper left corner was readable at least. It showed that it had been sent almost a year ago, several months after Jaune's disappearance. Which meant that he had been alive for at least that time period afterwards.

She tapped her fingers on the soft brown mahogany, squinting at the words and hoping that something had changed either about her perception or the letter itself that would make her capable of reading it.

No such luck.

Goddamnit Jaune.

-/-

"The question I'm asking myself," May started slowly, " is why they used the poison they used. If you get access to the food supply, why not just put something deadly inside it?"

Jaune paused mid-thought. That was a good question really.

"Good question." Sun seemed to think so as well.

A few minutes later they hadn't come any closer to the answer, and just as Jaune was about to suggest they go onto the next possible topic, Zedong's voice rasped up from his position on the bed.

"Negativity, bad emotions, Grimm are drawn to them." That remained his only contribution to the investigative effort of their group.

Everything else could be derived from that.

"So they were trying to gather a true horde, but for what purpose?" Jaune left out the obvious about how the treachery between comrades that the poison would have caused, would have produced more negativity than simply dying together. "Instability. There's not really much else that you can use a Grimm horde for." Jaune concluded shortly, before the others could come to the same conclusion.

Who would have been able to profit from it though?

Adventurers would have been hired to stop the horde, heroes and soldiers would have come, trade would have taken a small hit in the region. Or a boost... Jaune didn't know the effect chaos had on regional economics. Infighting between military officials, trade wars, and family grudges due to Targson's slight nobility were all a possibility. Too many options, too little information.

The direction he was thinking in was wrong. It didn't matter who caused this. What mattered was what they, as a group, could do to prepare themselves for any future attacks.

Training, preparation, and constant vigilance!

Jaune peeked out from under his hair at his teammates. May was chewing on her purple hair, and Sun was playing with his tail. "All we can do is be ready," Jaune said, receiving nods.

Jaune sighed and threw himself onto his back. The exhaustion was catching up to him. He had been able to avoid it by working his brain for the past several hours, but it didn't look like that strategy would surmount the weariness once again.

The ceiling turned foggy all of a sudden before everything turned incomprehensibly blurry, even the darkness behind his eyelids.

-/-

Sun's staff spun in the air and hit the ground behind him as he raised his hands in surrender, sword pointed at his throat. Jaune lowered it and fist-bumped the monkey. Respect crossed from one to the other through the gesture.

"You're off your game today," Jaune commented as they wandered towards a patch of shade and sat down, taking out a waterskin each.

Jaune's eyes wandered and he found himself watching the soldiers as they sparred with each other, while he, the best swordsman present, wasn't welcome anymore.

Or maybe the issue was that he was too welcome. Lightbreaker, a lofty title. It had manifested as an equipable title recently. Jaune could add it to the display above his head, which already read Mage and Jaune Arc.

But he hadn't, and Jaune didn't think he ever would. What use were such accessories when so many had died or been crippled? It was a consolation prize at best, and a harsh insult to everyone else who had fought that day at worst. A reminder that no matter how brave they were, how valiantly they fought, they had simply been born with the wrong class. They weren't heroes. Some roads were so hard for them to tread they might have as well been inaccessible.

The soldier class in itself was a joke. A blacksmith could attempt to become the best one in the world. The same applied for every other NPC caste class. But a soldier, no matter how hard he worked, how talented he was, would be bested by a hero who had only worked half as hard as the soldier did.

The experience gap could be closed if the soldier in question went out to hunt for Grimm like heroes did, but the lack of useful skills in their tree was simply too big a hurdle for all but the most prodigious.

"I'm tired, more than anything, Sun said, slightly scaring Jaune. He'd forgotten he'd asked the boy anything, as sunken in his thoughts as he was.

"I was expecting another grand plot that could potentially end all our lives. I've been vigilant for the entire month, but nothing went down." Sun looked down at his waterskin forlornly. "Being on edge all the time, it's exhausting."

Jaune nodded as he did one of his routine sweeps over the plains surrounding the garrison. The skill was active the whole time and he would feel it if any quick movements took place, but doing it manually was still better.

"I miss civilization," Sun quietly admitted, as if he was ashamed of it.

"I miss the library." Jaune tagged his own opinion onto Sun's, making the monkey snort in laughter before he abruptly stopped.

"Me too, now that I actually think about it."

"It's probably time to go back soon."

"Yeah, I hope so."

Jaune wasn't one to judge, but Sun did not sound particularly hopeful.

He wondered if he should just tell Sun that they would be returning within a week, to clear up his doubts and give him something to look forward in this boring place. But then Jaune remembered that when he had asked Sun which stat he should put his free point in, he'd been told to put it into agility, so he could run away from any real fight faster.

Sun might have been a bit peeved at the time since it had been the first one where Jaune had beaten him in a purely physical spar. Especially because the way he had done so had been slightly dishonourable.

Running away from someone until their stamina was exhausted was a legitimate strategy. Just not a very sportsmanlike one.

"You're remembering that joke of a fight right now, aren't you?" Sun muttered, earning a surprised glance from Jaune.

"How could you tell?"

"The stupid grin on your face."

-/-

Jaune had put the free point into agility in the end. It was the most useful stat other than dexterity for a swordsman and his mana-influencing stats were already being raised automatically.

He wondered if he would ever be able to get to a point where he could just run away from people indefinitely while hurling arcane bolts behind him every time his mana regened (which he'd have to do because his reserves were too much on the pathetic side to really make a mind-numbing initial barrage).

"What're you thinking about?" May asked.

Jaune raised an eyebrow, "Why do you ask?" To which the girl rolled her eyes and flipped her short hair.

"You have that stupid grin on your face, whenever you're thinking of something dumb, or unfeasible, or you're proud of yourself." She sighed. "Always the same expression."

Jaune pouted, slightly insulted at the low-level banter but replied, "I was thinking about how I could maybe become fast enough that I would forever be able to run away from enemies, letting my mana regen and bombard them with bolts."

May stared at him flatly as she rode beside him. She steered her donkey towards him and slapped him on the back. "You can do it."

"What's that supposed to mean…?" he muttered.

-/-

The fire spewed bright orange sparks that glimmered in the air as Jaune fed it another piece of wood. It was the first day of their journey back to Brorusalem. Jaune, a month ago, would have most likely followed up on his thought of the meaning prescribed to first day, and expound the definition of it.

But he didn't. Because it didn't matter. He stared into the flames, focusing on the calming fire.

Jaune pulled his brown cloak tighter around himself, chainmail clinkering slightly. He felt May stir in her sleep. For the first time in several months, he was alone.

Only three companions to be felt, the rest of the space filled up by a small oasis, surrounded by an endless desert.

He closed his eyes and consciously tightened the range of his dimensional comprehension, making it a perfect ball form with him at the centre. He started making it shrink, smaller and smaller, until, with a pop, it minimized into nonexistence in his stomach, showing him a disconcerting view of his intestines as a farewell.

He'd never really considered the psychological effects of constantly feeling more than a human was meant to feel. It added another dimension of senses to an already strained five. The eye saw much, too much. It had to subconsciously sort everything into a hierarchy of value, determined by the person, to not provide too big of an input. Same with the ears, nose and skin.

Jaune closed his eyes. Mental state was not something he'd thought about much in the past. It had always been his body he'd been more worried about.

A mistake. The permanent usage of the skill was bad for him.

The morale skill of Targson that he had been subjected to some time ago had been high level enough to provide a cleansing effect on all things that could be considered debuffs. This he had been told after he'd noticed that he felt decisively different after the battle. It had taken him a day to realize that it was his mental state that felt different.

There really was only one thing in Jaune's life that could have caused such an effect, unless there was an invisible mind mage following him everywhere. Shared dreamscape.

The skill that had been his go to escape from nightmares for quite some of time now. Maybe the change had been gradual, maybe he'd come in contact with something that with its very presence changed him, or maybe he'd been targeted.

The skill description had warned him of the beings he would share the dreamspace with. The skill had already paid off by saving his life once. But everything after that had been solely his fault. It was always odd, having something stupid, bad, slightly horrific happen to you, and having absolutely no one else to blame.

Jaune was the only one who even knew he had the skill. If he had shared the fact that he did, everybody would have warned him off of using it. Probably. Sun would have asked if he was meeting any babes in his dreams.

The mental change hadn't been significant, which was the reason he hadn't noticed anything wrong in the first place. His thoughts were more fleeting, negative emotions bubbled up more often than they usually should. He had brushed it under the rug with the excuse of puberty. It had made sense.

It was scary that he never would have noticed were it not for Targson. Being affected mentally by something, no matter how trivial in comparison to a full-on mind break, was not a good feeling.

But it was a not-so-good feeling he could turn into motivation. Motivation to learn how to protect his mind. Even if he never encountered another situation that would require the capacity for defence, closing off an entire avenue of attack against him would be quite the self-confidence booster.

Shared dreamspace also did bring him to the most beautiful places...

-/-

Jaune had done it. He'd perfected the move that had been occupying his mind for the last day.

His legs gripped the area right behind the horse's neck haphazardly, and Jaune let his head rest on the thing's rear end. He let his arms hang and swayed with the gait of his mount.

It was a much more relaxing posture than the usual upright sitting, useless for anything but a trot, but they weren't in a hurry.

He grew slightly bored with his elation, so he pulled his sword free where he had it sheathed at his side, rather than in his inventory, and dropped it onto the ground.

...After activating dimensional comprehension to check that there was no one behind him, of course.

Then he summoned the sword back to his hand, where the leather-bound hilt hit with a smack. He released his grip on his sensing skill, then a few seconds later the sword.

Under the critical gazes of his party, he repeated this several times before he grew tired and started hurtling the occasional arcane bolt into the sky.

His previous attempt at trying to keep dimensional comprehension up at all times was flawed. The next approach was to activate the skill in a short burst to notice anything that had changed quickly, but that was exhausting. The mental skill needed for something like that was the direct opposite of what he'd done before.

Keeping up the sense required stamina. Short bursts, on the other hand, also needed a certain quickness and explosiveness. The idea of short flickers wasn't of much use if he needed two seconds to feel anything properly.

On his next attempted flicker he noticed a small movement in the area of Suns windpipe. His larynx was setting up to vibrate, which signified he was going to attempt something speech-related.

Jaune turned off his skill and turned his head to look at Sun, who was riding to the right of him. Coincidentally, he met Sun's eyes, immediately causing the movement in Sun's throat to stop. They looked at each other for a few moments.

"What?" Jaune asked finally, breaking up the staring contest.

Sun scratched the back of his head awkwardly, tail whipping around slightly behind him. "That sword thing you did, you think you could pull me along if I was holding it?" His blue eyes sparkled slightly as he asked.

Jaune looked down, smiling. "Ah, I see you are a man of culture as well." Jaune rode closer to Sun, and held the hilt out to the monkey boy.

Sun looked at the hilt, raising a hand, "Jaune."

The mage looked back, sword still held aloft. "Sun, do it. Take it in your hand."

Almost reverently Sun pulled it out of its sheath and held it in a two handed grip, which promptly caused him to fall off of his horse… since he had abandoned his hold on the reins.

Jaune watched as Sun, at no point losing his grip, landed on his stomach. Face full of sand, unable to speak, Sun formed his tail into a thumbs up.

"Sun." Such willpower.

Zedong quickly rode by and took control of Sun's horse so it wouldn't run away while the owner was eating sand.

Jaune used his skill, slowing down for a moment. Nothing happened. Then the sword rose floating into the air, before taking off after Jaune at half the pace it usually did, dragging Sun to his feet and pulling him across the ground.

Sun spluttered, spitting out sand, then started laughing, occasionally jumping. "Hey look, I'm flying!" Sun hollered as he arced upwards. Then the boy noticed something. "Am I... accelerating?"

The sword was accelerating, Jaune thought to himself as he watched. It had become faster than his horse. The point would soon reach him.

The point. Sun was gripping the hilt, so the direction of the weapon flying towards him was inverse of what it usually was.

If Sun let go, it would fly towards him at high speed, point first. "Ah." A useful observation. He tried cancelling the skill. It didn't work. Weird, he hadn't noticed it being uninterruptible before. He spurred his horse into a gallop. "Sun, whatever you do, don't let go!" he shouted before gripping the horse tighter.

As he wasn't watching where he was going nor guiding the horse, Jaune was unprepared for the jump the animal used to vault over a small patch of cacti. His face was promptly slammed into the horse's neck, a position where he dazedly left it for now.

He quickly felt himself gain some distance from the flying missile and sighed in relief. Then he felt behind him. Sun was getting faster?

"Why would I let g-!" the words Sun wanted to say were interrupted by wind being forced into his throat as the sword, mad at the distance suddenly put between it and its master, sped up further until Sun didn't have to jump up to fly. Thankfully this also put him at sufficient elevation to avoid the cacti patch. Whereas before he probably would have sustained painful punctures all across his body, now he only lost his pants as they got caught up in the shrubs and stayed there as Sun flew on.

Jaune's horse looked back at the broken-off scream, slightly curious. Upon noticing the sex offender missile heading directly towards its butt, it accelerated as well in terror.

May watched, deadpan, as Jaune sped away at an unsustainable pace, kicking up sand along the way with a screaming, bottomless Sun following closely behind, his tears dissipating into the surrounding air creating sparkles

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

"They're out of sight," Zedong commented while scratching his grey moustache.

May hid her face behind her hands.

"At least they're going in the right direction," he finished.

* * *

 **I finished my exams but was sick for two weeks afterwards. I missed writing, so I started at quite a pace when I got back to it. It really helps to take a few weeks off, so you can really appreciate the bullcrap you're trying to serve people as literature from a reader's perspective. (If any sort of fanfiction is literature is debatable, mine at least, isn't).**

 **This chapter is, I would guess the transition from one arc to another. The last scene wasn't planned, but I thought it was funny, I hope you guys got at least a smile out of it. The story will take a darker turn now, not too edgy, but definitely more serious. I'm thinking of maybe writing an omake, a short story that is not entirely part of the canon I'm writing up now.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Why you should favourite and review**

 **It is in the reader's interest to favourite and review a story, the act takes two seconds, and that's being generous. While it may not take much effort, the effect is great. The story has more nice numbers attached to it, that make people feel like they are correct in investing the time to at least read the first chapter. This means that overall there will be more people reading it and favouriting it until eventually everyone on the site who likes it, has seen it.**

 **That's good for you, the reader, it's great even! It heightens the chances that you will meet someone else who's read it. If you heard them talking about it, if fanfiction comes up, or if you're spying over their shoulder on public transport. It doesn't matter, the chances rise, and with more interaction with others, positive interaction since you have a common interest, (my story) the higher your chances become of meeting new friends, maybe even someone who will help you lose your virginity you fag.**

 **It doesn't matter if you hate it or like it.**

 **Don't do it for me, do it for yourself.**

 **Favourite, Follow and Review,**

 **today you can be selfish too.**

 **If you don't know what to review about just tell me where you found this story, was it the RWBY section, a community, all the people on reddit who swear that this is the word of good? I want to get to know my demographic.**

* * *

Jaune slowly rode closer to Brorusalem's gates, the setting sun behind him. It seemed he had arrived just in time to find a place to sleep for the night. He swept back his cloak as he dismounted, preferring to approach the guards at a more eye-to-eye level.

He looked at the peaks of the tallest buildings reaching above the great walls protecting the city. With how he had experienced the political struggle, almost dying in the middle of a contrived conspiracy, he expected the city to be more, burned to the ground.

But everything seemed normal. The only visible change were the amount of guards at the gate… They had lessened. They were looking at him oddly though. Well, their gazes were directed slightly behind him. Towards the shirtless faunus mage with extremely windswept hair and a crazy look in his eyes. The shirt had been seemingly cut up to create a loincloth.

Having gotten used to being the centre of attention in the garrison, Jaune strode up to the gates and walked past the guards. He expected to be forced to stop for some sort of dialogue, but that didn't seem to be the case.

Some of the guards whispered 'young master' as Jaune passed them and entered the city. Sun stumbled in behind him, frowning.

"They thought I was your servant and that I had been unruly on the way here, so you bound me to the horse and dragged me through the sands," Sun explained after Jaune looked at him questioningly.

"Having hearing that good, I'm jealous," Jaune muttered in response, making Sun shrug.

"Being a faunus has its advantages." Sun looked around. The streets were mostly empty, but that was because it would soon be night.

"We left Zedong and May behind, so just go home. You should probably go and look for them tomorrow though. The horse you left behind still has your stuff."

Sun nodded and jumped off to places unknown, slightly less energetic than usual.

Jaune himself hesitated for a few moments wondering where he should go. Technically he could just enter the Zedong residence and crash there, but it felt rude. And if it felt rude, then it probably was rude.

He hadn't been to an inn for quite a while now, actually. He didn't have a preference, only requiring an unsoiled bed and something that resembled food.

Might as well go to the one where Emanon was, or maybe _wasn't_ anymore. A few months had passed since they'd last seen each other. He could extract some information about how the city had felt like during his absence. The adventurers' inn would be cheaper and better, but he had no one to look forward to seeing there.

After bringing the horse he'd borrowed from Targson to the army's stables, he made his way towards the Blossoms Inn, or whatever it was called. The name had faded from memory, but the location hadn't.

-/-

The innkeeper informed him that Emanon was indeed still living there, showing off a star-shaped tattoo on his shoulder that supposedly raised his coolness factor. She had gifted it to the man for free use of a room for half a year.

Nodding at shoulder-obsessed man, Jaune walked up the stairs while kicking up dust and knocked on Emanon's room. It creaked open slowly, and Emanon stared at him blearily in all her half-naked glory.

"Oh, it's you," she said flatly. As she stepped aside to let him in, she peered out into the dusty corridor to see if anyone else was there. As if she was waiting for someone.

Jaune glanced at her underwear-clad behind for a moment. It was different seeing it compared to feeling it with dimensional comprehension.

"Do you usually open the door dressed like that?" he asked her as he leaned back against the wall and let himself slide down to the floor.

"Do you usually knock on the doors of young women when it's night?" she countered.

"The knocking thing bothers me as well. Don't worry, soon enough I'll just be able to teleport in."

He received a glare. She seemed more standoffish now than she had been back when he had escorted her.

"What do you want," she flatly demanded.

Jaune hadn't expected to receive a cold welcome but he was fairly sure Emanon would warm up again shortly. She was probably mad he only bothered seeking her out after half a year and her own inability to find him. It was the only explanation, though their relationship had never exceeded friendly employer. She probably still saw him as a part of her social net. No matter how far on the outside he was.

People hated losing control.

"I just came back from a quest." She rolled her eyes as if saying 'yes flaunt your exciting life more.' "And you're the only person I really know who was here for the time I was gone."

She sat down on her bed, making his eyebrow twitch. Going for the bed instead of the chair when there was a man present... such promiscuity.

"So what, I'm your informant for what's happening in the city?"

"I guess you could say it like that, though due to our positive past interactions I would of course be more interested in how the events have formed your own experience." At her annoyed look he added. "What emotional and possibly physical impact they had on you."

She snorted. "Fine." She turned to stare at the ceiling, hands behind her head. "I assume you're asking about the political shitshow. It started with posturing, then contradictory messages by criers. One would advise all citizens to stack up on food supplies while the other would talk about great harvests in the region which would lead to cheaper and more importantly voluminous amounts of food. There was one incident where it came to blows."

"One?" Jaune queried, causing Emanon's eyes to grow even more distant.

A split second activation of dimensional comprehension showed a hooded man talking to the inkeep.

"Yes, one. I was present at the time. The market, was buying some needles, some noble and a wealthy merchant started arguing, it escalated until they both sent their respective armed forces against each other, at first for intimidation, then for violence."

Another flash. The hooded man, equipped like a rogue, was walking up the stairs.

"And then they burned to ashes in an instant."

What.

"What."

Jaune was focusing on the man who was now passing their room, the man who halted for a second. Maybe he had misheard.

"Apparently the reputation of our court magician is deserved."

The rogue continued onwards after his pause, opening the door next to Emanon's.

"He appeared a second later. One moment he wasn't there, the other he simply was. A small pop, like the death of a soap bubble accompanied him."

The rogue had entered the room and started unpacking.

"His voice boomed out, 'Not in the open,' and then he was gone again."

The unpacking finished, the rogue slowly walked to the wall his room shared with theirs.

"Sirius Black. What a terrifying man."

The rogue knelt down and pressed his ear to the wall.

"Everything went back to normal afterwards."

Shit.

Emanon suddenly gripped her head, the movement startling Jaune further. "It fucking hurts!" she hissed out.

Jaune didn't know why the rogue was spying on them. The most likely reason was the fact that someone had discovered he was a dimensional mage.

"Do you need anything?" he asked as his mind raced. There was also the possibility of someone being pissed on him for halting their plans. The garrison came to mind. Or it could have something to do with Emanon.

"No… Wait, some water wouldn't hurt," she corrected herself.

The question was, were they here to spy on them, or was their purpose more sinister? Could the rogue only listen or did he have other skills available? His position implied he was listening more than anything else.

Jaune would continue with the assumption that he wasn't being watched, only being listened to. He quickly shushed Emanon with a finger in front of his mouth.

She shut up, thankfully.

His thought process accelerated as he thought of what to do. He mindlessly pulled a waterskin out of his inventory, walked over to a very still Emanon, and handed it to her. She ogled slightly at the use of magic. Jaune had been careless with the usage of inventory.

"Here, some water," he enunciated clearly as he pulled out a sheet of paper and scribbled on it. This was not the time for saving space so he made the words large and legible.

He handed the paper to Emanon ,who was gulping down the water. Some droplets ran down her chin and into her cleavage. She glanced at the paper when finished and after a second of incomprehension stared at him wide-eyed.

'Someone is listening in from the room next to us, bad intentions, after me.'

She mouthed 'really?' to which Jaune nodded.

"How about I take you up on your offer to get a tattoo," Jaune suddenly said nonchalantly. "Do you have any new additions to your sketchbook?" He held up the piece of paper, the words 'Yes. At the table' underlined.

He needed to get out of here. If this was an attempted kidnapping there was probably someone watching the inn's exits.

He helped Emanon stand up as she played her role. "I do actually have a few new ones you might be interested in." She sat down at the table and made a show of pulling the chair across the ground so it made a decent amount of noise. She pulled out her sketchbook and let it fall on the table with a bang.

The rogue listening in flinched but quickly regained his composure.

"This design I made recently, it's inspired by the cactus that is abundant to the north of Brorusalem," she said, writing down a 'what do we do' on the blank open page of her sketchbook.

Jaune put away his quill and took a hold of one her charcoal pens.

'they're here for me, unless you did something?'

They continued a sparse verbal conversation that must have come off as a bit stilted to the spy, while their true exchange continued on paper.

'I did nothing.'

It had been unlikely that the rogue was here for her, and now the chance was even lower. Now, how could he get out of this situation? He felt out and found that all exits were being watched by at least one person. They weren't even trying to be inconspicuous.

Even the window was being watched. Fuck. The one in their room was the only one though. The windows of the other occupants had nobody assigned to them. Jumping out of one on their side of the inn would be inadvisable, as it meant jumping down on the cobbled main street that had sentries.

The rooms adjacent to theirs on the corridor though, those were unguarded and so was the back alley. One of the suspiciously dressed men was sitting at the bar downstairs, which let him see everyone entering or exiting the kitchen, which had the only door leading to the back alley.

Which was why the back alley had nobody. Ok.

"You have quite the variety, but they're all drawings. Why don't you… show me your tattoos, so I can see how they look on skin," Jaune suggested saucily.

'Go with it, make sex noises on bed, I'll run away, eat the page we're writing this on later.' Emanon glanced at him, with slight trepidation.

'what about me?'

'they're not after you, not much I can do, seven of them.'

She seemed unconvinced but stood up from the chair, once again making sure it scraped. She clutched her head, mouthing 'headache' at him. A bit of blood dribbled from her nose, down her delicate chin, and onto her white linen tank top.

"Why don't we move to the bed then? Then you'll... be able to see them better." She threw herself onto the bed, and despite her apparent pain managed to sound fairly sultry.

Jaune pressed a healing potion into her hand, his other hand making the gesture for her to continue.

"Well, we didn't say anything about touching, but I'm not entirely against the idea." Emanon basically purred out the sentence.

"Yeah, you like that, don't you," Jaune said, trying his very best not to sound like the awkward teenager that he was while he stood up, went to the door and put his hand on the knob.

Jaune wasn't able to sense facial features very well, but as the 'sexual act' progressed, the rogue seemed to grow more and more annoyed. Eventually the man just gave up, stood up, and threw himself on the bed while muttering something.

Jaune could have laughed, but it was likely that the man had a skill that enhanced his senses if he was assigned the role of spying on them instead of just being another sentry.

Emanon at this point was jumping on the bed with a deadpan look on her face while moaning and giving the occasional shriek. She mouthed the words 'if you're lying' at him, followed by running her thumb across her throat.

Jaune shut the door as stealthily as he could and made his way to the room on the opposite side of the corridor. He knocked on it gently. The man inside muttered something, then stood up from a sitting position to get the door. People sure talked a lot when they were alone.

The thin man opened the door expectantly, looking forward at his own eye-level. This prevented him from really seeing Jaune and made it easier for the mage to drive a fist into the man's solar plexus.

'Bartholomew' folded in two, wheezing and allowing himself to be pushed back into the room. Jaune let him fall onto the ground as he closed the door behind him. He stepped over the now-vomiting man and opened the window. Jaune had one leg on the window still when he suddenly thought of something. He turned around and threw a few coins at the green-haired guy's head.

"Don't tell anyone about this," he commented lightly, as if the situation that had just occurred was something differently entirely. He promptly jumped out of the window, only to land on the roof of the kitchen, four feet below the window he'd exited from.

He steadied himself with the help of the smoke-spewing chimney and continued onwards to the edge of the roof, where he moved down hand-by-hand until his foot found purchase on a barrel that stank of fish.

Someone in his situation would be running, but oddly enough the green-hair hadn't screamed or done anything to indicate to the kidnappers that something had occurred.

"A few Lien sure go a long way," Jaune muttered to himself as he started walking away from the inn and towards, towards… He didn't know, but he needed to put some distance between himself and the inn. He concentrated while walking, slowly making the name and class above his head fade out.

An improper emotional reaction enveloped his thoughts. Numbness, if that was even an emotion. Getting angry, desperate, afraid, those would have been counterproductive actions. What he needed now was the calmness to assess the situation and a plan on what to do. He had thought about the possibility of being chased by someone with nefarious purposes before. A lot, actually.

Had Jaune been too liberal with his use of inventory, or had it been noted that his sensing skill was a bit out of the ordinary? Probably inventory, many had seen him use it and someone must have not come to the conclusion of him having an enhanced item, but the truth instead.

That didn't matter as much as some other things, but Jaune still wanted to know. He decided to think of it later, and develop some rules on operational security when he was at it. What needed to be done now was the procurement of transport.

A donkey would be more inconspicuous than a horse He also needed supplies, as he had little to no food or water with him, and lastly a destination.

For all this he had from one hour to the next morning until the people watching over the inn noticed that Jaune wasn't coming out of his room. When they did, they would most likely search Brorusalem for him, and after not finding him the most likely place they would look for him afterwards was a harbour town. This was discounting all the possibilities of skills being used to determine his location.

Jaune added one more location he needed to visit on his list: the library. He wouldn't have much time, but if he could 'borrow' some books on anti-scrying and mental defences he would at least have something productive to do while on the run.

-/-

Jaune banged on the door of a general store he'd found, and kept hitting it until he felt the owner stand up from where he had been reading some ledgers and make his way downstairs.

The man seemed fairly relaxed for the fact that he had been pulled from his leisure time by someone assaulting his door. An older, chubby merchant opened the door and greeted him with a smile. "Hello sir, business must be urgent for you to be visiting me this late at night." The man's smile grew wider as Jaune pressed some Lien into his hand. The doorway was unbarred and Jaune entered into the store.

"Yes, surprise mission, need to be gone by morning to exterminate a pack of Nevermore that's harassing the nearest harbour town. They need ranged support." Jaune pointed at his now-revealed class. It didn't matter if the merchant knew, and he would be more likely to help someone who wasn't hiding his identity. And if the rogues investigated, well, they would be making their way towards the nearest dock.

The man nodded respectfully and started pulling out nonperishable foods and the other goods that Jaune had requested. Some crude maps depicting trade routes found themselves on top of the pile of food and utility supplies before the man hesitated.

"What is it," Jaune stated more than asked, wanting to get on with it.

"Well, I recently got a hold of a skillbook, only to find out that it's basically w-worthless," he stuttered to a stop while scratching the back of his balding head. Jaune was forced to wave the words out of him. "Well I was thinking that even if the skill isn't that great, a mage could still study the workings of the process."

That _was_ interesting, though Jaune wondered what kind of skill it was that the book was considered useless. Usually skillbooks went for ridiculous prices.

"It would be a flight of fancy that I would only follow up on if the book was cheap. Skillbooks are, after all, well documented," a lie, "There's no need to repeat the experiments done on them unless one is bored."

A grimace, a reluctant nod. They settled on 100 Lien for the book, some more for the rest of the stuff.

Jaune suspected that the merchant had been scammed to buy the book and now couldn't make back the money, and so was therefore holding on to it. It must have drawn some gazes from others, as a general store didn't generally supply items of such luxury, and the man had probably realized that he had overstepped his mercantile boundaries.

The book was brought to light, and the merchant blushed as Jaune got the chance to read the title. Jaune could see why and tried to hold in his chuckle, but didn't quite manage. He shrugged. "We all stumble on a bit of bad luck occasionally," the mage reassured the man, which seemed to brighten him up a bit.

"It's not entirely your fault either. Most books of the skill teaching variant are valuable." Jaune shook his head. "Many, me included, probably didn't even think it was possible for a skillbook regarding pest control to exist."

And so it was that Jaune acquired the second skillbook of his very short career. This meant that he was ahead in acquisition of resources to all but the richest, but the quality was questionable. Maybe he would sense something interesting once he learned the skill, and honestly, if he would then be able to magically kill bothersome insects, the price would be more than worth it.

In ten years or so it may even start paying off; bugs and mice destroyed more provisions than people usually took into account when thinking of the creatures. He would also save on not having to buy several remedies for infestations, like mouse traps, onions for the flies, and herb tassels for the mosquitoes.

Maybe the purchase had immediately paid off with the simple fact that now that the merchant wasn't in possession of the book anymore, he wouldn't be mugged for it by someone unwilling to believe that the book was useless.

Jaune blurred out his name again. It was time to go to the library. He halted. The rogues might know he had a connection to Sun, and Sun lived in the library custodian quarters.

He continued walking. He would have to bank on the fact that they still assumed him to be in the inn. Without the books on anonymous travel, well, his attempts at fleeing would most likely prove to be fruitless.

Jaune passed into the big building effortlessly, despite having no name. He had pulled his hood down though and put his hair back into a ponytail. A hairstyle he had never worn before, so it would hopefully make it harder to recognize him.

The library was, as expected, almost completely empty except for the few custodians running around and sorting books back into their shelves. It felt holy somehow, and the effect was compounded by the fact he hadn't been here in a while. Jaune gave himself a moment to take it all in, before getting to work.

Time was short, after all.

He started grabbing what books spoke to him, only reading the titles. He only managed to shove a few into his inventory while nobody was looking before it became full. _Catch Me If You Can_ by Semmelson; _Blow Your Load and Hit the Road_ by opipkcalb; _Definitely Not Who You Are Looking for_ by Dindu Nuffin; _Magical Rituals for Anonymity_ by The Beast; and _Running From Responsibilities_ by Totally an Adult.

Jaune didn't think he'd ever visited any place that had books, regardless of the amount, for such a short period of time. Ten minutes.

He left, shaking his head. What those bastards had made him do was unforgivable. Jaune wasn't particularly practised at holding a grudge. But he could damn well try.

Now he only needed a donkey, which was more inconspicuous than a horse. Who'd ever heard of a fourteen-year-old being able to afford a horse? Not that he was fourteen yet, but closer to it than thirteen.

The entrance age of Beacon was approaching, so he should probably start making his way to back to Vale. Jaune made sure that his senses were completely extended as he passed the inn Emanon was at, brushing it in his periphery. The rogues were still there, good. He had to make sure there was no one waiting for him at the guild stalls.

Jaune really wondered why there was no one stationed there or at the library. The library not so much, but the guild was a place someone in his situation might go to. Was the organization behind this not as powerful as he had initially suspected? It was possible that a small criminal gang or a coven would go after him as well. It wasn't only powerful institutions that possessed knowledge. Sure, they probably had more of it, but definitely no monopoly.

Jaune entered the stables, looked around for a suitable donkey, took it, and rode out. Technically speaking it wasn't theft. The animals were there for the use of adventurers. It had probably just never been assumed that there was an adventurer brazen enough that it would have been necessary to clarify that distinction, yes. The guild would rather that you had a quest to get to and informed someone of the requisition, instead of simply walking up and taking a mount.

On his way to the gates, he suddenly sensed movement, making him tense up. Several cloaked figures were approaching, running outwards in a spiral pattern. Like a disturbed hive of ants they scurried over rooftops and on the streets. Jaune was sure that if he followed the ever growing spiral back to its source, he would find it to be the inn he had left behind several hours ago.

Jaune slapped the donkey's ass lightly to accelerate. So it _was_ him that they were searching for. If it had been Emanon they were after there would be no reason to leave the inn.

Jaune made sure his name was showing again as he came into sight of the guards at the gate. The gate never closed, expect for sieges, but they were probably more suspicious of people who travelled during the night.

He nodded at the men on duty, one who was apparently napping, and rode past with no issues. A murder of crows rose up from a nearby building as he exited the city. They were almost out of his range, but he still heard their caws before they flew inward, out of his range.

The gate he'd exited from was the one that was connected to the road leading to the seaside. The harbours and dock towns.

After a few minutes riding in that direction, he changed course. Towards the border between Vacuo and Vale.

* * *

 **Yes that was Oobleck and no, he wasn't not shouting because he was bribed, he was not shouting because he's a NPC and Jaune didn't control his strength properly. He's probably still puking his guts out to this point.**

 **TIME SKIP APPROACHING**

There are a lot of people asking me for this.

* * *

 **Jaune Arc of Aschen; Lightbreaker**

 **Level 16**

 **Dimensional Mage**

 **str: 13**

 **con: 16**

 **Dex: 11**

 **Agi: 16**

 **Int: 16**

 **Wis: 24**

 **Reg: 1**

 **Unique Passive (semblence) (active): Arcane Bolt (Journeyman)**

 **Fire a bolt of arcane magic at the enemy**

 **Swordsmanship (passive) (Apprentice)**

 **Wield a sword.**

 **Sword return(active) (neophyte)**

 **return your sword to your hand.**

 **Dimensional comprehension(passive)**

 **Understand what, was not meant by human minds to be understood.**

 **Shared dreamspace(active)**

 **share dreams with beings you would otherwise never have a chance to meet.**

 **Inventory(active)**

 **Store thing in an extradimensional space.**

* * *

I was considering writing a short bio, a list of traits, or a description. Hahaha. No.


	23. Chapter 23

**I started releasing some of my original works on RoyalRoadl under the same username. Link is on profile, go check it out, only one chapter though, next one is coming saturday.**

 **Chapter 23**

 **edited by 5th dimension**

* * *

 **This is a semi-omake so don't take it to seriously. You don't even have to read it to understand what is happening in later chapters.**

The oven emitted black smoke as the dough within writhed and twisted itself. Occasionally skulls and demonic faces were discernible as it bubbled. Pantheon sighed.

"Another failure then," he muttered, threw some water over the fire to quench it, and coughed from the smoke. Usually one would only close the oven door to starve the fire of oxygen. But the baker was not in the correct era to know about that method or to even understand what oxygen was.

He put on his oven mitts and pulled out the failed baguette. The form was good; it looked like a proper phallic object, ready for consumption. One end of it was slightly softer than the other. He could actually shove a spoon into that part, unlike the rest, where upon touch the spoon curled up, emitted some smoke, and disintegrated.

It reminded him of how Grimm died, dissipating in a similar manner. Pantheon pulled his white chef hat over his eyes and tried to prevent himself from crying.

Why was being a baker so damn hard?

The oven mitts that were holding the baguette were starting to dissipate. He quickly threw them off and rushed to a bucket of water to wash his hands, and upon drying them on his apron he saw that the baguette was starting to dissolve a hole in his floor. He frantically looked around for something with which he could hold the damn thing without being destroyed, and his eyes fell on the Broom.

Yes. Capitalized, a magical artefact of his grandfather that was spelled to be indestructible. Why the enchantment had been used on a broom he didn't know, but thankfully it had been. He removed the bristle head and aligned the shaft with the softer end of the baguette. The wood penetrated it slightly and he was able to shove the thing towards one of the walls, where he was able to firmly lodge the wood inside the bread(?).

Slightly shaking, Pantheon opened the door to the backyard and looked into the dead forest that started right at the end of his overgrown lawn. The forest hadn't always been dead… It had only been that way since he'd started throwing his failed products into it.

"And away you go you bloody monstrosity!" Pantheon shouted as he swung the shaft towards the forest, the baguette dislodging with a wet 'schlop' A caw resounded as a Nevermore the size of a big dog flew out from the trees, probably taking offence at the description of bloody monstrosity.

Pantheon was just about to apologize, before running back into the safety of his house, when the baguette, sailing through the air, didn't smack the Nevermore down as much as it destroyed half of its body on contact.

Ping.

Pantheon stood there, frozen. He'd known that his creations were sometimes not of the best quality. But to have a Grimm die upon touching it? That was just insulting.

At least he'd gained a level.

-/-

Pantheon was facing a conundrum. He was a baker, but he'd killed a Grimm quite easily. Level five was what he had been before the kill.

At twenty-three years of age that was considered to be quite bad for a NPC like him. There wasn't much he could do about it, though. He just wasn't talented at baking, and that was just the thing that gave him, a baker, exp.

The bitterness of being born an NPC had never really been something he'd gone through like others did. He hadn't been born with a privileged class, so what? Nine in ten people hadn't been born with a privileged class. While being the protagonist of some legendary quest was out of question, he was still perfectly capable of being the main character of his own life.

A new path had opened up though. Not one he'd ever wanted, or considered, but one that was still quite enchanting in its mysteriousness and possible prestige. Gaining that level had felt good. Feeling his status shift and his body change once he put that one point into strength, had been almost orgasmic.

"I'll try to replicate the failure," he muttered as he laid on his cot in his beaten down room in his drafty house. It had never bothered him, but with killing Grimm came lien.

So many possibilities. Maybe there were some other interesting failures he could invoke with his dough. A shield and some armour would probably be a good idea.

-/-

The village Pantheon lived in was small and cut off. While almost directly on the border between Vacuo and Vale it was still on the Vacuoan side of things when you considered taxes and protection.

Emboldened by his successes with his special type of failure, he created bread so hard that it was seemingly unbreakable and harmful to anything it hit, as long as he, the creator, wanted it to be. Thus Pantheon went out with his newly made spear. The shaft was the same Broom he'd used a few weeks ago to dispose of the baguette.

And now, there was another baguette stuck to the top of the shaft.

Maltet he'd named the spear. He'd gotten it from a story his pops had told him as a kid. Something about knights, he couldn't remember.

After trekking through the surrounding forests for a bit (it was harder to find Grimm than expected), he finally found a Beowulf.

"Aha, foul fiend, it's time for your slaying." The creature, which reached up to his chest, turned, lowered its body and started growling. Pantheon was admittedly slightly intimidated, but there wasn't really anything that could happen to him with his spear with him.

He took a pose with his weapon. It almost seemed like he was forgetting something.

"Prepare to be vanquished creature of darkness."

The beowulf lunged at him. Ah, right.

Pantheon had forgotten that he didn't know how to wield a spear.

Thankfully the beowulf was just as inexperienced as him, biting onto the tip of the spear and dragging the whole thing down like he was trying to chew it to death.

Did... the monster think the spear was part of his body?

The action Pantheon had to take was simple. He shoved the spear further down its gullet until it could go no longer. The beowulf started choking and thrashing, the weapon probably being somewhere in its stomach by now. He had shoved it far enough in that the front claws of the beast were able to reach Pantheon.

On the first swing at him he jumped back, circled around until he was behind the beast, and kicked it in it's rear while dodging the slow attacks it managed with its hind legs, all while screaming. The cacophony of sounds, the screams of a grown man, and the whimpering of a beowulf interspersed with the occasional thud of flesh hitting flesh resounded through the forest.

Eventually the Grimm gave up its struggles, and frothing at the mouth, it sank to the ground where it was then kicked to death.

Due to Pantheon's low strength this took approximately one hour.

Once finished, despite his stamina being replenished by the level up, Pantheon couldn't help but sink exhausted to the ground.

He saw something out of the periphery of his vision and looked up to find himself staring at a young mage, who stared back at him with a dead look in his eyes.

The blonde teen was dressed in a manner that screamed adventurer or hero. Steel greaves, mostly leather clothing that looked quite sturdy, with a sheen of what must have been chainmail peeking out of the vest and a sword at his belt.

They stared at each other for a while, Pantheon slightly scared and embarrassed, the mage still with that neutral expression and dead eyes.

"How long were you watching?" Pantheon asked, only to get stared at.

Just as he was about to ask again the teen answered, "The entire time."

"Ah."

The mage pointed a finger at him. "Your next words are going to be, 'I was only pretending to be retarded.'"

Before Pantheon could answer anything the mage had closed the distance between them and gripped his shoulders. His still-trembling shoulders.

"You could have died." The words were whispered while the mage locked eyes with him.

"I- Yes." Pantheon looked down, unable to hold the weighty gaze.

His head was spinning. He could have died. You could die walking down some stairs, but what he'd done was quite a bit more risky. The only reason he hadn't fallen to the ground yet was because of the arms holding him up.

"But I didn't." Pantheon hadn't died, though he would make sure he was better prepared next time. Armour, some daggers, a shield, and a helmet would be necessary.

"You want to do it again?" The mage asked, incredulous.

Pantheon looked at where the Grimm had dissipated, lien lying on the ground. About half as much as he'd make in a day of work. The experience was surging inside of him. He was close to level seven.

"Better prepared, yes." The sudden gain of experience had been a rush. Probably wasn't affecting him overly much though. This was what he wanted.

The mage let him go and sighed, flipping his almost-white blonde hair out of his eyes. "How will you prepare yourself exactly? You don't have any resources here in this village and you will need several years to move somewhere else and purchase them." It didn't sound dismissive, just a statement of facts.

The words hurt though. How was he going to prepare? He didn't know how to make armour, and there wasn't anyone here who could teach him how to wear it. The few soldiers they would probably require payment for teaching him how to fight, as they should.

Pantheon was in the vicinity of a hero though, a mage, all the more knowledgeable for that. Probably. He looked up with star-filled eyes. "Master!"

The mage laughed and asked, "What do you have to offer?"

That was the question Pantheon had been asking himself since he'd realized that to prepare, he needed someone with experience. And he had an answer. Dropping to all fours, still exhausted, he executed a mad scramble towards the lien on the ground and the spear that was lying next to it.

The baguette was fully intact, and so was the shaft. He thrust it at his (hopefully) teacher.

"I was hoping that I sensed wrong. So it's actually bread on a stick that you used." A shake of the head. The spear was taken from his hands, and Pantheon watched as some purple fog began to rise up from the shaft, then the spearhead.

"Durable against magic, how about that." The mage twirled the spear, not expertly from what Pantheon could discern, but still capably.

"Hyaahh!" Faster than his eye could follow the spear hit a tree, denting the wood. Pantheon's eyes widened. If a younger mage, a class that didn't usually employ close quarters combat was this strong, what was the gap between him and an actual warrior?

Depressed, he watched as the mage stared at the spear in wonder.

"That is some impressive..." Hesitation. "...bread."

Pantheon brightened up a bit at that. Nobody had complimented his creations before.

"What else can you make?" The mage asked while handing back the spear, "Tell me on the way back to your place."

Pantheon nodded and started walking. It appeared that he had secured someone to teach him. For how long, he didn't know, but better than nothing.

"So it's failed bread? There must be different ways that you can fail at making bread. Can you make bread pointy and sharp? I would like a sword; chainmail would be nice too. How long does this stuff last? Does it ever dissolve? What are your plans for equipment, farming grounds and fighting style?"

Better than nothing, Pantheon reassured himself.

-/-

Sweaty brown hair rubbed against his face as he lay on the ground, heaving. Master Jaune certainly knew a lot about tempering the body. Though Jaune was most likely not his real name, it was the one he'd introduced himself with, but there was no name above his head, only a the class.

Everything hurt, but Pantheon was glad that he'd been so vehement about seeking out guidance the day prior. The mage knew a lot about training the body, which wasn't even his master's speciality when considering the class he possessed.

The previous two hours or so had been spent working all of his muscles in a rotating cycle. By the time he'd arrived where he'd started, Pantheon's body had been able to handle half of what it had previously. The only reason Pantheon hadn't given up once he'd started feeling the excruciating burn running through his body was the fact that master was doing the exact same exercises on the other side of the clearing they'd found, while occasionally glancing over and correcting his form or providing incentive if he thought his student was slacking off.

One particular painful instance had occurred at the beginning when Pantheon had been doing laborious crunches while hanging from a tree by his legs. Master had come over and punched him in the stomach, causing him to fall down when he thought Pantheon was slacking.

The plan had been explained very thoroughly to him. He remembered the words as if they had been spoken yesterday (they were spoken two and half hours ago). Master didn't have much time, so he would train him for a week. Seven days straight Pantheon would wake up earlier than the already early time bakers usually woke up and work on his physique. After that he would receive tutoring in subjects thought important for adventurers.

After that came spear fighting until exhaustion reared its head again, going over designs for armour and weapons that could be made out of a baker's lifework, and then to finish the day off, a series of light spars.

As he approached his master for the assigned two hours of adventurer knowledge class he hoped that with light spars he meant _light_ spars. The hell he had just gone through had been described as a light workout after all.

Master's eyes glowed slightly as Pantheon sat down before him, and the mage twitched and started speaking without any prompt. "The most important thing about being an adventurer is being able to travel without anyone to rely on. For that you need to know about how to create a nutritious travelling pack, how to navigate, take care of your equipment, set up camp, take care of animals, talk to locals, haggle, scout, and some other stuff I can't remember right now."

That sounded like a lot, Pantheon raised his hand.

"Yes?"

"You don't seem to be carrying much yourself, master." Master nodded at this and hopped down from his position on the rock.

"A very good observation. Another important thing that people who want to take up the most dangerous profession in the world must have is the ability to think." At Pantheon's doubtful glance he continued. "No, not everyone is capable of such a feat. Now, why do I not carry any visible supplies?"

Pantheon rubbed the stubble on his chin. His master's gaze sharpened at the act and he scratched at his own, stubble-less chin. Why did master not need supplies? There was only one thing that separated master from other humans, at least to his knowledge. His class.

"Because you are a mage," Pantheon stated firmly, receiving a clap.

"Yes, another possibility would have been that I possessed a space ring or something equally ludicrous, but the most feasible and the correct answer is the fact that I," he said, pointing at himself and puffing his chest out, "Jaune, adventurer extraordinaire, finder of the sword god's pyramid, peerless swordsman, student of Jain, saver of villages, and vanquisher of evil, am indeed, a mage." Master looked at him, as if waiting for another observation.

"Won't creating supplies the entire time tire you out before you even get to a fight, or will you be able to create supplies after a fight?" Another clap, and master pointed at him.

"Yes, use that brain." Master sat down again. He seemed to be slightly vibrating in place. He probably had to slow down his workout for Pantheon, did master now had too much energy? "Same question right back at you." Master calmed himself noticeably. "Your stamina is also a resource, how can you justify carrying anything at all if it will encumber you in a fight?"

Pantheon was about to sink back into thought before his master interrupted. "Don't think about it too much. To make decisions and reliably use your capacity to think, there must be some information that you can use to base your actions around. The knowledge you possess is directly proportional to the breadth of actions you can perform in any given situation. You seem to have a good head on your shoulders; only seen you do one remarkably stupid thing in the day I've known you. Now I'm going to attempt to stuff that head full of knawledgeee."

And stuffed full of knowledge he got. It was hard. Jaune simply started speaking about a certain subject and didn't stop.

Pantheon had told him that he would forget half of what he would be taught at the beginning. He had since then changed his mind from half to maybe an eighth. Master had said he didn't have much time, so he was thankful for any help at all, but still, wouldn't it just be better to train stuff that he was unable to forget? You didn't lose muscles and muscle memory after gaining it after all. He posed the idea to master, only to be shot down. Metaphorically, thankfully.

"You may forget it now, but you will remember it when you need to."

So Pantheon listened, so Pantheon sat and so Pantheon occasionally fell asleep only to be awakened immediately with a splash of water in the face.

-/-

"The first argument about how one normally uses a spear is overarm or underarm." Master demonstrated the overarm, thrusting at a tree with the spear held almost at his neck, and then the underarm, the thrust coming more from the torso. "Underarm is the preferred method of people who use only a spear. Overarm is used by people who also use a shield." Master brought a shield theatrically out of his pocket and snared it to his left arm, while his right held the spear.

He bashed a non-existent opponent away and stabbed the down foe with a hefty downward swing, then retreated to a crouching position, the buckler hiding half of his body from sight. "The strength of the overarm method is of course the downward stab. You use a shield to bring yourself into a position where you can use it. For beginners it's the simple methodology of block and attack."

Master seemed to contemplate him for a few moments, glancing at Pantheon occasionally and seemingly sizing him up. "I don't think we'll bother with underarm quite yet. It's something for more experienced people or amateurs who don't plan to use a shield."

Pantheon gained a contemplative look at those words. Was there a reason why he had to use a shield? There wasn't really one form the way he saw it, so it would definitely be better to decide now so he could focus on only one form. The week of tutoring he had was even more importanter since what he would learn this week would become the foundation for what he would practice once master left.

He started raising his hand to bring up the point.

"Don't even think about it."

Overhand and a shield it was then.

"Are you right-handed or left-handed?" The question was unexpected but Pantheon could understand why it was important. He raised his right hand in answer.

"Well, sucks to be you, you're going to be learning the spear left-handed." Master seemed to take sadistic glee in those words.

"Uhh, ok." Pantheon didn't have any illusions about his competency in the field of deciding how he should train. He went over to his side of the clearing, looked at master, who was doing something with his sword, received an encouraging nod and started thrusting.

Well, he started up one thrust. He'd never used a shield before and when he'd repelled the imaginary enemy he lost his balance. The thrust, led with his non-dominant hand, made him stumble and fall to the ground.

That wouldn't have happened if he'd been thrusting with his right, he was sure. He tried several more times, failing to make any progress except for not falling down anymore.

This was dumb, he was losing motivation. Maybe he would get some if he knew the reasoning behind the order.

"Why am I using my left hand?" Pantheon asked.

"To learn how to train through adversity."

That made sense. No wait, it didn't. He only had one week with master. Adversity was something he'd face when he was gone. "Can I just use my right arm instead?"

Master shrugged and performed some sword moves which were too fast for Pantheon to see. His body blurred too much for him to perceive what master was thinking.

"Go for it, but remember to do one-fourth of the exercises with your left, underhanded, so you won't be completely stumped when your right arm is damaged."

Pantheon expressed his thanks and went back to his training that was much easier now. Master sure was an agreeable person, if a little on the twitchy side.

Or was it paranoid?

Pantheon was not a man of words. He remembered there being a specific word for that kind of man, but he didn't know it.

...Where was he?

Right.

Master. Paranoid.

Every time a sound resounded through the clearing, master's eyes squinted just the tiniest bit. His expression hinted at the fact he was doing something, but Pantheon wasn't able to discern what.

It was probably some sort of skill, Pantheon thought to himself as he defeated another imaginary dragon-like Grimm. He knew that he himself always pulled a grimace when he used his. Even if it was usually a grimace of distaste as another try at actually baking failed miserably.

But what could the skill be that master was using? Something that Pantheon couldn't see or sense in any way.

An invisible shield, so that in case the sound was an attack master would be protected? A skill that let him sense everything in a certain radius? Maybe he was just gathering mana for an attack if something came.

"How many heroes and soldiers does the village have?" Master asked abruptly, as if he'd just thought of something.

It was a question Pantheon had to think about. They had three soldiers, one of whom was a bit old, and two hero classes, a warrior and his daughter, who was a ranger. The warrior was nearing fifty, and his daughter Gwen was sixteen years old. The father was the one in charge of clearing out Grimm.

Pantheon didn't remember anyone else. The village was small enough that he would know if there were any, but big enough he didn't know everyone personally. "Three soldiers, a fifty-year-old warrior, and his ranger daughter." Master seemed to mule it over before nodding and continuing to swing his sword.

Pantheon waited for him to say something, but master just told him to go back to training. He did, but asked a question too. "May I ask why you wanted to know?"

"There is someone sneaking around our training area, a girl." That was... concerning... but it was probably Gwen. Master's senses must have been top-notch to notice something like that. A skill was probably the reason. Pantheon couldn't think of another way a mage could spot a ranger in the forest of all places.

He was curious about what the skill was, but it was considered very rude to ask, and master seemed fairly secretive and paranoid. A bad mixture when asked to reveal potentially life-saving skills.

A crow suddenly landed on a nearby tree, easily noticed because it gave a loud screech as it entered the scene.

It was promptly shot down by some purplish missile. Patheon traced it back to master's position.

Two crows landed nearby, screeching just as loudly, seemingly unperturbed by the sudden death of one of their brethren. An unholy cacophony of sounds descended upon them from above, a veritable swarm of birds landing on the foliage surrounding them.

"Master?" Pantheon asked hesitantly, looking over when he received no answer.

The mage was standing there sneering at the birds. "One last lesson I guess," he muttered, loud enough for Pantheon to hear, "There is no foreshadowing in real life, clues that hint at something bad happening soon. You're just sitting there, enjoying your life, when a literal storm of shit descends on you for seemingly no reason at all."

"Master is very wise," Pantheon said as an answer, not knowing what else to say.

His words received a chuckle. "Go. Run off, this doesn't concern you, nor will you be able to do anything if you stay." The words were casually said, but there was truth there.

Pantheon didn't know what was happening, but whatever it was, he fearfully glanced at the crows surrounding them, it was beyond him. Like most things. This was his first day of training after all.

So he ran, almost hyperventilating, thinking of all the possibilities of what was happening now in that clearing.

Despite his burning legs, he didn't stop at his house and barricade himself inside like a coward. Pantheon ran until he reached Ulbing's house, banged on the door, and didn't stop until the door was opened.

"The baker?" The aged warrior managed to mutter before being interrupted by Pantheon's wheezing gasps.

"Fight between... heroes... a mage against someone. I couldn't see. Crows!" he managed to rasp out before falling to the ground coughing, having accidentally swallowed an insect at some point.

He wildly gesticulated in the direction he came from and was about to say where exactly master was fighting when he was interrupted by a flash of purple light exploding forth from the training clearing.

He heard a curse from Ulbing, Pantheon's arm was grasped and he was pulled into the house, and the door was shut behind him.

An earth-shattering _crack_ reverberated through the air. Pantheon could see the houses' walls vibrating from what must have been a tremendous shock wave. He glanced at Ulbing, who was already halfway through attaching his armour. Pantheon opened the door so the warrior wouldn't have to when running out. That half-second the warrior would gain from not having to open it might be the half-second that mattered.

He clung to that hope. The bearded warrior righted himself after attaching his footwear, a gigantic halberd clutched in his hands.

At some point, Gwen had come over and was arguing with her father. Pantheon couldn't understand what they were saying. Their lips were moving, the occasional spittle flying. Pantheon couldn't hear anything, now that he thought about it. The scene of the daughter, who had by her gestures wanted to join her father in fighting, was put aside as Pantheon raised his hands to his ears and felt a wet warmth trickling down the sides of his head.

He glanced stupidly at his now bloody hands for a few moment, not comprehending, as Ulbing ran out. Then Pantheon clasped his hands together in prayer, eyes closed.

He didn't know master, but someone who genuinely helped a foolish baker on his path to becoming a hero couldn't be on the wrong side of a conflict. Master was surely strong, but Pantheon was weak and therefore all he could offer was a prayer or a momentary distraction by jumping in front of a blade meant for someone else.

Gwen, the normally haughty girl who didn't look at non-combat classes, hauled him down from his kneeling position and through his feeble resistance laid him on the floor, his head on her lap.

Too weak to resist, Pantheon continued praying, even if the position wasn't right. His eyes unfocused sometimes and he glimpsed Gwen's black ringlets of hair, her face a blotchy piece of white enclosed within them.

Warmth enveloped his ears, sound returning to him. The warmth travelled to the rest of his body and after finding nothing, retreated. His head was then unceremoniously removed from her lap, landing on a pillow not a moment too soon.

Sound had returned to him, but everything was muted, as if he was hearing things from underwater. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gwen racing out the door, having managed to equip herself in the few moments since she'd let his head drop on a pillow. He hadn't even managed to raise his hand properly to stop her before she was already out of sight.

Pantheon let his head fall back on the pillow, hands on the ground. He had been naïve. About the world in general and his position in it.

The despair he was feeling right now, unable to do anything but lay on the floor, taken out of action by being a mile or something away from the actual fight...

"This is what weakness feels like."

Heavy footsteps entered the house, and Pantheon looked up to see Ulbing enter, not a scratch on him. He locked eyes with the man, pleadingly.

Only to receive a morose shake of the head.

Yes. This was weakness. One good point about being so pathetic, though, was that the only way forward was up.

Pantheon had heard of people who had had what could be best described as religious experiences. A moment of clarity, followed by a life-changing decision. A goal that either would be met, or the person would die.

The stories understated the event.

Pantheon could hear his heartbeat, the blood rushing through his head, every single part of his body and mind receiving an edict straight from the heavens.

"I will become a hero."

-/-

Jaune raised a blonde eyebrow, trying not to show how afraid he actually was. The _thing_ before him grinned. A red eyebrow raised to mirror his own expression.

A bad mirror. The demon might have taken the form of a human head but it didn't look anything like Jaune. A squarer face structure and the red hair colour extinguished any possibility of resembling him.

"One life." The demon almost seemed disappointed. "You only want me to take one. Are you sure?" A grin. "How about a city? Spread your name, make people tremble in fear. A good reputation is dead useful in our world."

Jaune managed to jerkily shake his head, the demon's sheer presence pressing him down without its owner having to lift even a nonexistent finger. "O-one life and h-ho-however long it takes you to end it."

The disembodied head smiled from ear-to-ear, showing off its triangular teeth. "What you ask for is what you get. The price shall be paid." Jaune held eye contact with the demon as its pupils, made of geometrical shapes, started spinning, creating a mesmerizing effect that heralded the end of his consciousness.

* * *

 **This would have been release on saturday, IF, this wasn't the chapter that pushes us into the 100.000 words range. As a celebration this chapter is thicc af, not at all made so so I wouldn't have to write another one to reach the mark. As a celebration you guys can review tons, light up the atmosphere in here.**

 **This is the promised timeskip, after this is the arc leading to Beacon Academy for Heroes. Due to the nature of a timeskip I felt like writing from someone elses perspective and thus Pantheon has appeared. He will come up again just like Jain and Emanon. (Unless the response to him is that bad that I lose all my fanbase because of him).**


	24. Chapter 24

**Fanfiction fucked me a bit here, had to recalibrate story formatting which means this will show up as an update, sorry for that.**

 **Chapter 24**

 **Edited by 5th dimension**

* * *

Jaune threw an arcane bolt at the wall adjacent to his prison cot. It was absorbed before impact by some sort of murky gray shield that appeared every time something magical approached the walls, which were also gray. The bars on the small window and door were gray too. The wood of the door looked kinda gray as well, as did the chains holding up the plank of wood that he had affectionately come to refer to as a cot.

Almost two years of hiding, travelling by donkey, wiping away all traces of his passing and not interacting with people much. All of that, just to be captured anyway. On the border at that! Jaune had even cut off all his hair so that nobody could forge a sympathetic link with it to find him. It had grown back fairly quickly. The regeneration stat was useful and at two right now, but still, he had been running around the desert bald for a week.

Back then he'd had the choice between suffering in a hood or having a scalp hotter than most cooked meals!

Steps echoed down the corridor where his cell was and he tensed, preparing an attack but staying seated to give the illusion of peace. The steps passed by his cell, just like the last four times. Jaune slammed his fist into the wall behind him in anger. He'd been rotting in this cell for several hours now. Kidnapping him and then not even bothering to clarify the situation... He truly had been found by some horrible people.

Jaune laid back down and wondered where he was. The cell didn't have a window so he couldn't tell. It couldn't be far from the village where he had been captured. He didn't feel like he had been unconscious for a long time.

He grimaced at the thought of his capture. The crows had converged on him, forcing him to blow them away by causing a huge explosion with some alchemically created dust. After that, someone had closed in on him so fast he almost couldn't sense it and knocked him out.

Being underlevelled sucked. What was he supposed to do against someone with several times his agility? There was no time to react due to him being unused to such high speed combat, and even if he had a clue to what was happening, he wasn't strong enough to do anything about it.

Someone walked by his door again. Jaune didn't bother preparing for a fight. Maybe they didn't know he was awake? They might not know he had points in constitution and therefore thought he would be out for longer.

Jaune stood up and walked the two feet he needed to walk to get to the door. He clutched the iron bars and pulled himself up to attempt a glance into the corridor… only to flinch back as something crawled onto his right arm. He fell back down and managed to dislodge the ugly millipede from his hand in the process. The bug smacked into the door and Jaune killed it off with pest control before it could regain its bearing.

"Motherfucker," he muttered, clutching his arm that had come down painfully while falling. Steps suddenly echoed through the corridor outside, more urgently this time.

Jaune stared at the dead millipede that dissolved into ashes. That wasn't supposed to happen. The millipede had not shown up in his senses. Sure, the skill dimensional comprehension was being limited at the moment, probably by the same magic that saved his surroundings from being blown up, but he was still able to feel a foot or so outside the door.

Theoretically, the thing should have shown on his radar, but it hadn't. That and the fact that he hadn't actually made that much noise, but someone was still coming right after he'd killed the thing, pointed to it being a magical construct of sorts.

It would have been arrogant to assume that dimensional comprehension had no weaknesses, that no one could cloak themselves against it. It was still disconcerting to be faced with an example, though.

"You awake in there." A voice resounded from outside his cell. It was a young, also female voice.

Jaune considered not answering, but since he had wanted to get his captor's attention anyway, he shouted back a "Yeah."

"Alright."

So being awake was alright, was it? That didn't really tell him much, and neither did the analysis of his probably-jailer's voice help him in any discernible way. Half the world's population was female, and a third of those were in the young range.

The girl outside his cell left, still in a hurry apparently. Jaune wondered why, if he was so important, they hadn't stationed anyone by his door to inform them when he awoke. Maybe the girl in question was just hyper. Those people existed. Sun came to mind; he could still remember the boy's hyperactivity despite not seeing him for two years.

He went through some strategies to disable anyone who opened his door for what must have been the hundredth time, but ultimately discarded the line of thought. The simple truth of the matter was that Jaune was outmatched in every single way here: numbers, skill, levels, and some other things he couldn't think of off the top of his head. Negotiation was his only real possibility. A bad one, but probably the only one he had. Being in an overwhelming position of weakness was never a good way to start a discussion.

The worst outcome would be enslavement under threat of death, but even if that came to be, he only needed to gain seven levels to gain access to teleport or another movement skill.

"Only seven levels."

Damn.

It wasn't like they would let him fight if he was, as he assumed, a dungeon radar. Too valuable to lose. He would have to try and level up by mental effort spent on intellectual thoughts and pray to god he would gain some experience for his role in killing the monsters, even if it was circumstantial in the highest sense.

Finding the dungeon which allowed it to be raided, and the monsters dying in the raid. Those were at least two levels of separation from the actual act of killing anything. Any exp gained that way would be minimal, if not nonexistent.

The door to his cell opened rather abruptly, making him flinch at the suddenness and the light. A rogue stood at the door, the same one who had eavesdropped on him and Emanon at the inn two years ago. It was easy to remember a man who had several burn scars on his back, even if he seemed to have more of those now. A flaming whip perhaps? As a punishment for any kind of failure, or self-flagellation?

"Up, I'm bringing you somewhere." The man's voice was neutral, the unveiled upper half of his face not revealing anything.

"No restraints?" Jaune had to ask. Even if he was weak in comparison there was a still a small chance he could harm someone if he tried to escape.

"None are needed. Even if you somehow were to incapacitate me you would never be able to escape. We trust your intellect. You were able to avoid us for quite some time after all." The man's eyes crinkled as he smiled underneath his mask.

"Thanks." It was a slightly backhanded compliment, with him being a prisoner now. But still, nice to hear some people thought highly of his ability. Jaune stood up and walked up to the door.

The man nodded and started walking, slowly. Jaune appreciated it. He could take in his surroundings easier that way. Gray walls and drab was what came to mind. Which was understandable; he was in the prison wing of whatever structure this was. He looked out of a portcullis and froze. The rogue noticed and turned around to look at him questioningly. Jaune was transfixed by the city outside. How couldn't he be?

He was looking down on Brorusalem, a place that he had left several miles behind.

"How long was I out?" Jaune managed to push out.

"A day or so."

Impossible. In most cases. Now he was really curious about the identity of his captors. He took one last glance outside, to make sure he wasn't hallucinating.

Following the man, Jaune quickly did some mental gymnastics, trigonometry. He knew Brorusalem to a certain point and he had been able to identify some landmarks: the statue of the Sun Emperor, adventurer's guild, and inn. From this viewpoint, the highest building in the city was the residence of the court wizard, a tower that stretched into the sky like a demented hand trying to strike the heavens.

Well, at least it wasn't some incompetent that managed to capture him.

He managed to dredge out some of the things he knew about the man as he was led through twisting turns and down many stairs. Not a great reputation, something with human experiments, feared enough that it didn't matter how others saw him. Capable of teleportation, fire magic, duplication; ruthless, decisive, and possibly cruel. Not the best combination of traits and capabilities for someone who held Jaune's life in their hand.

Eventually the rogue stopped in a rustic dining room, motioning for Jaune to sit down. The man then walked backwards to the door they'd just entered from and started standing guard.

The room might not have been opulent, but that didn't mean it wasn't big, some dozen feet in each direction with some floating blue flames providing light. The centrepiece was taken by the big round table Jaune was now sitting at.

There wasn't any food present yet, but the cutlery and some jugs of liquid were. He only now noticed how thirsty he actually was and poured himself some. He discovered it was water and gulped down two glasses before being satisfied.

He didn't have to wait for long, as five minutes later the court wizard himself entered and sat down opposite of Jaune. Court wizard was a title Jaune associated with age. Sirius Black looked younger that he had expected. Instead of nearing a hundred the man seemed to be barely sixty years old.

Clear gray eyes, uninhibited in sight, clean-shaven, no wizard beard, and with a head of shoulder-length black-and-gray hair.

"You must be hungry." The man clapped his hands and there was food. Simple dishes appeared on the table, followed by more complicated foodstuffs. Roast pheasant, potatoes, soup, and much more.

Jaune shook his head. "Hungry for answers, maybe."

The wizard looked like he wanted to laugh, but was able to restrain himself. Still, the man's facial features turned less intimidating. "Well, let's get to the reason why I had you delivered here, out of your way." The man didn't seem to have a problem with eating as he spoke. "I know about your class."

Jaune nodded hesitantly. "So what, I'm going to be your dungeon searcher?" Jaune asked.

A shake of the head, another bite of food disappearing. "No, I need a portal to another world," he said lightly, as if speaking about the weather. His eyes burned into Jaune, though.

Jaune sputtered. "I didn't even think something like that was possible," he admitted, gaining a shrug.

"It isn't, for most people."

Jaune put some food on a plate and started eating. "When exactly would I be capable of something like this?" Several decades most likely. He shouldn't have eaten. He felt like puking now.

"I am capable of some magic in that direction, but I need help, someone who is more suited. At level 100 you can design your own skill. If all else fails, I help you get there, you create that skill according to my design." The words got more heated the more the man spoke. He was obviously invested in this topic.

The only problem in Black's plan was that Jaune did not want to give away years of his life for something someone else wanted. One could argue that getting boosted to a level one would otherwise never reach would be worth it, but it wasn't, not really.

Jaune had been largely independent for several years now, liked it, and did not wish to lose the ability to do what he wanted, when he wanted. And what he wanted most right now was to go to Beacon Academy for heroes. Jaune didn't necessarily want to be a hero, but having spent two years trying to get there had solidified that goal in his mind.

There was also something about it that drew him, like a beacon. As if that was the place his destiny awaited. He couldn't quite describe the feeling.

Black, however, was not a person that drew him in any particular way. Repelled maybe, now that he focused on it. There was something deeply wrong with the man. As if he didn't belong here, and never would.

The man was also the bastard that forced his capture, and was also a politician, if he understood the title court wizard correctly.

But Jaune was weak. A compromise would have to be made. "Is it possible for me to attend Beacon while serving?" Jaune asked, causing an odd look to pass across the wizard's face.

"School, huh? I can understand why you would want to attend. Those are often times the best times of our life." He sounded almost melancholy and wistful, but then shook his head and regained a colder bearing. "No, that won't be possible, not really. Maybe a metaphor would help." Black pointed at his plate of food. "You see this?"

Jaune didn't see anything but some eggs and pork roast but nodded anyway.

"The chicken, it gave its eggs for this meal. One could say it made a contribution." He suddenly gripped the knife in his right hand tightly and slammed it down onto the pork, stabbing through it, the plate and the table beneath it. "The pig however, made a commitment."

Jaune had still not recovered from the act of sudden violence as Black affixed his eyes to his. The man seemed a bit... feverish.

"I don't think I have to tell you what I want from you. A contribution ain't gonna cut it."

That was... shit, Jaune wasn't going to act tough here. He knew there must be some way to barter for better working conditions, so to say, but he sure as hell wasn't able to think of any right now.

He'd never quite been held at knifepoint quite like this. There had been beasts and people set on his death before. But never any that were stronger than him, proven by the fact he was still alive and they weren't. He managed to open his mouth despite the slight jitters still running through his body. "Can I have, s-some time to think about it?" Black glanced at him, as if sizing up a cow for the chopping block.

Jaune's first mistake was that he had asked, instead of stated. The second had been the stutter. The third in retrospect was that he directly deflected the small mental probe that had tried to sneak its way into his head through his eyes.

"I don't think of myself as a bad man, nor as an evil one," Black said. Jaune had differing opinions to that statement, but the wizard continued. "There are just some things in life that I would sacrifice quite a lot for." The man mulled it over. His face was quite easy to read now that Jaune thought about it.

"You have until tomorrow to think."

That was the sentence. One day.

Jaune made to stand up, not wanting to be here anymore, but Black waved him down. "You should eat something. There is no room service here. It would also give you some time to watch a demonstration of mine."

Jaune reluctantly started eating again. Black was right, he needed food to think. Now that he concentrated fully on his plate, he noticed that the fare was quite good. Which made sense, nothing but the best for people of high political office.

He was startled once again as an oink resounded through the room. He glanced up and saw that a servant had brought a pig into the dining room.

Jaune stared at it.

"Oink."

He had not forgotten the contribution and commitment metaphor.

Black started speaking again, though Jaune only heard it vaguely through a haze, already suspecting what was about to happen. "This is just a showing, that a commitment, must not necessarily be voluntary."

The wizard pulled out his wand from his sleeve and pointed it at the pig.

"Imperio."

There was no light, no sound of a spell going off. Jaune couldn't see anything change about the animal either, at least until he looked into its eyes. They were glassy, as if the thing was high, drunk, or unconscious.

"Run head-first into the wall behind you, until you die."

Thus spoke the wizard, and thus a pig died.

A limp body. Cranial seepage and blood running along the lines in the floor.

-/-

Jaune didn't allow himself to scream in rage... or desperation? He didn't quite know until he was alone in his cell again.

So that was it, the choice of either becoming a willing slave, or becoming an unwilling slave.

Maybe Black had simply used the spell as an intimidation tactic. Controlling a pig was very different than controlling a human being, especially a mage who had some rudimentary mental defences. But Black knew from his mental probe that he had those defences. A human could be broken down to be nothing more than an animal, with time.

"There comes a time when you have to choose between two bad choices." Great. The passage hadn't spoken of how to decide though.

Choosing the lesser evil, willing servitude was probably better. There wasn't anything he could do to get himself out of this situation. Black seemed dead set on his path and unwilling to compromise.

Jaune created several arcane bolts and hurled them at the walls, where they dissipated. Well, the walls were magically immune. He however, wasn't. He formed another salvo and gulped, heart beating out of his chest.

The arcane bolts dissipated as the thought passed through his head. So even his magic didn't want him to contemplate suicide, huh?

The only real choices left were willing servitude and trying to find his fortune in that place then. He hadn't entered shared dreamspace for a while now, for good reason. But it seemed like it was time to take a gamble.

Would servitude be that bad though? Levels, knowledge, and a chance to work closely together with an experienced magic caster. Jaune would outlive Black by about forty years anyway. That meant all in all, that he would at least have a few decades of freedom, maybe even more if Black found what he wanted earlier.

There was something drawing him to Beacon academy, and his very being inwardly recoiled at being beholden to anybody. It was just wrong on a level that he was not even capable of comprehending. Visceral somehow.

There was only one possibility left then. A chance of one in a million that he would encounter an entity willing and able to help him in the shared dreamscape.

He hadn't forgotten about the skill despite not having used in two years. Overuse led to long term consequences, this he had determined. But taking a chance with that and being enslaved were two very different things. Why should he trust Black to treat him as a slightly-more-bound-than-usual servant? The man seemed too taken with the idea of travelling to another world not to try and lay unbreakable chains upon him.

Shared dreamscape seemed to be the only option he had left. Jaune lay down on his cot and stared at the ceiling for a bit. It was weird returning to a place he hadn't been to in a while. It was nostalgic with a hint of danger.

Jaune dropped down into a vibrant forest. It seemed to be nearing autumn, the various trees around him changing their foliage from green to yellow and brown. It was beautiful, in some ways more real than reality itself.

He spent much thought and experimentation on his skills. But everything he had on shared dreamscape was mere conjecture; he hadn't allowed himself to use it after all. One thing that stuck out to him was the fact that he had only ever met one being using it. The wind that had answered his call for help back in the fishman dungeon.

Other than that one time, he had never encountered anyone or anything. He had seen things, but never met them. Because at the time, he hadn't wanted to. His thoughts affected this place, somehow. So to meet creatures willing to help him, he had to imprint his will onto this world.

"I need help" became almost a mantra as he traversed the forest, repeating it endlessly as he walked on. The soil beneath his feel changed to rock and the trees grew smaller, and sparser. The scenery changed into a desert, the sun bearing down onto him.

Jaune wondered if it was a coincidence that the first environment he dropped into was a forest, and the second a desert. A different facet of reality indeed. Following that logic, the next thing to come was a mix of both, or a city.

The sun bore down on him, making him sweat until he willed himself to stop. The sand under his feet crackled, drew together to slowly form into cobblestone, shanty buildings springing up around him to create a street. Its streetness was dubious at best, though. Jaune had never seen one without people.

The city scenery was short, followed by a longer stretch of desert and then an oasis.

It was eerie, retracing all of his steps in so short a time, but at least he was prepared for the sudden teleportation that occurred. It took him from a clearing that resembled the one he'd trained Pantheon in to the gray cell that he had intimately acquainted himself with the day before.

Only he wasn't alone.

A human head with red hair floated in the room. Its pupils seemed to be made out geometrical shapes.

Jaune opened his mouth to commence dialogue, but the creature interrupted him. "We already had this conversation," it said, revealing pointed teeth that fit together like a jigsaw puzzle to create a truly terrifying smile.

Now that he thought about it, he had already had this conversation. The thing would take over his body to kill Black and then relinquish it back to him. He couldn't for the life of him remember what he was paying with for this service, though.

"You're paying me through symbolism. Using a symbol of my design, you will gain fame or infamy." The head seemed to mull something over. "I recommend a guild made out of elite members." Jaune felt himself get analysed. "You don't seem to be capable enough to bring forth the effect I want in any meaningful way... alone, at least."

The demon rolled his eyes. "Enough time wasted. Let's get on with it."

Jaune had just the time to feel indignant before losing consciousness.


	25. Chapter 25

**It has been pointed out to me that my writing has gotten even less serious the past few chapters (especially the semi-omake) and some people have unfollowed me for that fact. Which is understandable.**

 **The reason why they liked my story was for the beginning. If it becomes something else mid-way it's perfectly understandable to stop following it.**

 **I've invested some of my time to think about the issue of this story changing pace so to say. After all, people who would enjoy the way the latter chapters are written would never get there due to not liking the first few and vice-versa, some are leaving because this isn't the story they favourited anymore.**

 **This mostly an issue of me being a new writer, I've yet to find a style and am mostly experimenting around and trying to have a bunch of fun doing it. And I will say, writing the last five chapters or so has been the most fun I've ever had writing. So I apologize in advance for the fact that I will continue to experiment and have fun with my stories.**

 **I just don't feel invested enough to change something, because others don't like the path I've taken since I'm not getting paid for this.**

 **This is my first story I've ever taken semi-seriously and it has 100k+ words. I enjoy writing it, so I will continue to do so until I don't anymore.**

 **Another thing. I will stop holding myself to the release schedule of once every 3-4 weeks that I have been fairly faithful towards.**

 **I'll just release stuff as I write it, which is good for you guys now since this chapter and the next one have only taken me two weeks, in comparison to the four I usually need. In the future, however, you might have to wait longer than you're used to.**

 **In the future, this and the next chapter were written very fast because I had so much fun writing them, and I doubt that will change very fast.**

 **I will still be posting on Saturdays.**

 **Chapter 25**

 **Edited by: 5thdimension**

* * *

It was odd looking at himself from a third person perspective, Jaune concluded after floating around his body for several minutes. He had never really acknowledged how handsome he was. Mirrors weren't something he spent a particularly long time around.

The sculpted face, strong jaw, windswept hair the colour of hay, and placid blue eyes. The posture, the poise, simply sitting there his body emitted an aura of nobility. Back straight, the heel of his right leg resting on his left knee, muscular arms set in the thinker's pose.

The tanned skin on the back of his neck held an immaterial chain, its links made of a bright light, a chain that led directly to Jaune's consciousnesses. Which was good. It signified that even if he was not currently inhabiting his body, he was still linked to it. The link was just weaker, signified by the fact that the only skill he retained in this form was dimensional comprehension, and a weaker version at that.

Referring to his body as his body was weird. Better to refer by its inhabitant. "What's your name?" Jaune asked.

His body glanced at him lazily. "It must be annoying referring to me as your body. I have many names, you can call me Morilec, last name Smrti."

Jaune nodded. Weird name, but he'd heard weirder… A certain "Newb Stomper" came to mind. Well, shared dreamspace was a place inhabited by beings from others worlds, universes, or timelines. The only thing connecting these inherently different people was their ability or potential with dimensional magic, or spacetime magic as a certain book called it.

Morilec had come to him in the form of a disembodied head. Like a dullahan, but without a body. Wait, that sounded dumb. A dullahan without a body was literally just a floating head. That was what he'd just described.

Well, what Jaune had been trying to get at was the fact that Morilec, who was someone who didn't normally possess a body, seemed perfectly fine in Jaune's body. One would think there would be more flailing around and all. Asking would be unwise though. Morilec seemed fine with having a body, and so the posture and facial expression of 'don't talk to me' was most likely intentional.

Jaune could understand. Someone who could travel worlds and efficiently take over a body must have been very old and powerful. Pestering him now would be the equivalent of a five-year-old doing the same to him.

Wait, were the skills he had tied to his body, his mind, or both? Two of those options would mean that he would perhaps see someone more experienced fight with his own personal skillset.

Jaune suddenly gained a more-than-visceral interest in how the fight would proceed. Before this it had just been something that would determine if he would live the rest of his life in slavery or not. Now he was able to think about it with a sort of academic interest from the perspective of someone who fought for a living.

The boredom became even worse with his strengthened anticipation, though. He wanted to see them face off. Black was powerful, there was no doubt about that. But if Black was powerful, then the feeling that Jaune had gotten from glimpsing Morilec's strength could only be described as a crushing cosmos pressing down on the soul of the observer.

He didn't have to wait for long. Steps resounded through the corridor, but Morilec did not act. Probably guessing his confusion, the demon whispered, "Not him."

Jaune nodded and watched as the same rogue from yesterday opened the cell and bid his body to follow him. He had somehow expected Black to come by personally, but the man probably didn't want to bother, which also didn't make much sense since from what he had heard the wizard could teleport.

The path they were taking, well the path the rogue and Morilec were taking while Jaune was dragged along, lead upwards. Which made sense. Black had tried to get a feel of him and eating was just useful for that. The consequent enslavement of Jaune did not necessarily have to take place in a dining room.

After some time going upwards, Jaune realized they were going onto the roof of the tower. He wondered why, but Morilec didn't seem to be concerned, though the placid expression might have been caused by the fact that for him, nothing was really at stake.

Giving over control of his body had been the best possibility to avoid enslavement. But being the best possibility in a sea of literal shit wasn't really all that great. There was a great chance that Morilec was tricking him somehow and had a way to possess him indefinitely. But even if he were to die as a result of his decisions, at least he would get to witness a battle between two powerful beings. Going out with a bang as they said, even if it wasn't one produced by him.

These thoughts flitted through his head as they finally ascended the tower completely. The rogue behind them did not come with.

The roof was vast, bigger than logic would normally allow when considering the fact that the tower beneath the roof was smaller. The usually blue and clear sky was for once covered by clouds. Not of the fluffy variety, but that of heavy gray rain. And there stood Black, hair whipping slightly in the breeze, wand held out. He was on the opposite side of the roof.

Jaune wondered about the theatricality. Black shouldn't have a way of knowing that he would be facing anything but a teenager today. Yet the circumstances hinted at something else. Had Black somehow found out about the fact that Jaune was not the one inhabiting his body right now?

And even if that were the case, why bother with the dramatic scene of two enemies standing on top of a tower as the sky grew slowly covered by rain-clouds?

Jaune looked around again, inhaling the atmosphere. Ok, he could see why. This was the kind of event and setting that could be painted and inserted into the biography of a legendary figure. So Black was dramatic? The actions of the day before leaned that direction as well.

"So you have come," Black said with a loud voice, observing the fact that he had indeed come, an event which Black himself had ordered. The man raised a hand towards him, resembling a gesture of invitation to friendship. "You don't look ready to join me though."

The wizard lifted the wand in his right hand to the sky, summoning a thick purple barrier that encompassed the top of the tower in a hexagonal ball-like structure. "I will show you the depths of despair then." The man, after saying this, giggled and smirked in a way that was not at all threatening.

Suffice to say, Jaune ascertained that Black was indeed a dramatic individual.

Morilec however, certainly wasn't. He might have appeared so in the deal they'd made, but apparently his attitude shifted once he was... on the job, so to say. An arcane bolt was sent hurtling at Black as if to interrupt any further dialogue. It broke apart into a flurry of vivid sparks on a blue shield surrounding the wizard.

By the time the sparkles dissipated, Morilec had already formed two more bolts, one for each hand. Black waved his wand and sent a hail of red bolts at Morilec, who simply jumped upwards to dodge.

...And simply stayed there as with another wave of the wand, the ground beneath Morilec's feet turned into ice. He was using arcane bolts as a propellant to float in the air.

A small pause descended on the battlefield. Black was the one to break it, bending down and touching his wand to the floor, working the first incantation Jaune had heard him mutter this fight. Morilec didn't wait to see what he was doing, showing off supreme control of flight by ascending even further while spinning. At some point during the spin he accessed his inventory and hurled several swords at lightning fast speed.

The swords stumbled on the same blue spherical shield as the bolt before, but they visibly dented it, creating cracks. Black had finished whatever he was doing and several man-sized gargoyles formed from the stone and flew towards Morilec, who spun and prepared another salvo.

Not to be deterred by the newly created pursuers, he hurled the swords, causing Black to shield himself rather than add another type of offence to the gargoyles. Despite their frightening demeanour, the gargoyles didn't seem to be very effective. Morilec easily fended them off with only his arcane-coated fists.

But he now had no way to actually attack Black, who now walked away from the small mountain of swords that had been thrown. He hurled red bolts that seemed to home in on Morilec, whose movements had become slightly frantic meanwhile.

Suddenly, though, Jaune's possessed body tightly gripped one of the gargoyle's heads, infusing arcane bolts directly into it, destabilizing the whole thing until it exploded into a great shower of stone.

"BANG!" Morilec flew out of the dust cloud, thrown by the explosion. Black was ready for him, sending a gigantic fireball to greet him. Morilec tilted his palms upwards and shot out several bolts into the sky in quick succession, slamming himself harshly into the ground to avoid getting burnt to a crisp. The thud he made as he landed was not reassuring.

But the smirk and the extended hand thrown Black's way certainly was. Rolling to the side to avoid a red bolt, he somehow managed to cast sword return on all of the swords lying just behind Black at once. Swords flew towards Black's back at frightening speed hilt first, smashing into him and sending the wizard sprawling towards Morilec. In a reverse of the previous situation, he was readily waiting for Black with another sword pointed at his quickly approaching body.

Black disappeared with a very loud _crack_ to completely skip past Morilec, and appeared dozens of feet behind him. His momentum had not dissipated even with the teleportation, however, and Black had to manually stop himself with some acceleration-slowing spell. _Arresto_ something.

Before the wizard could gain any sort of reprieve, several arcane bolts struck his position, completely obliterating the blue shield and forcing Black to erect another one.

A pause ensued in which Jaune wondered why Black had been hit by the swords in the first place. He should have at least one sensing skill, right? He sensed around the battlefield frantically with the minor access to dimensional comprehension he still had.

"Well, you certainly don't fight like a sixteen-year-old." Black commented, breathing rather harshly.

Jaune meanwhile found the anomaly. The swords that had struck Black were slowly transforming behind Morilec.

"You, certainly d-" Morilec started a retort before being interrupted.

"Behind you!" Jaune shouted at his body as the swords finished their transformation into several large black dogs and pounced onto his body.

Morilec wasn't able to turn around in time and was suddenly held in place by dogs biting down on every one of his limbs. The sound of flesh tearing and growls resounded as Black smirked. "Too naïve."

The man needed Jaune alive, but seemed to be forgetting that as he charged what looked like a localized tornado of wind above his head. With a flick of his wand, the rampaging air was sent towards Morilec, who despite the situation and Jaune's screaming in his ear like a little girl, smirked once again.

The dogs biting down on him suddenly started distorting, seemingly liquefying and being absorbed into the skin of their prisoner. The process was fast, allowing Morilec to clap his hands together with a resounding "Ha!" before the wind was able to reach him.

A small black ball the size of a fingernail appeared in front of Morilec's joined hands. Jaune felt woozy from the roller-coaster of emotions he was being subjected to, but was still able to feel the tyrannical hunger from the small ball as it floated there.

Was that inventory?

With a great roar, the tornado with a diameter of a dozen feet noisily crashed into the space in front of the pitch-black ball, before compressing to the same size, if not smaller than the ball and being completely absorbed by it in less than a second.

Black stared at Morilec, horrified. Morilec grinned back, a small amount of blood leaking out of his mouth, running down his chin and falling to the floor. The splash the droplet made as it impacted was not as much heard, as it was felt.

"Thanks for that. I don't have anything in my arsenal that's big enough to decisively beat you." The grin extended further. "It was pretty dumb of you to raise a barrier that hinders any spatial travel outside of it," Morilec added, eyeballing the hexagonal barrier that surrounded the rooftop.

Black started waving his wand rapidly, muttering to himself. Morilec simply unleashed the storm back from the small black ball, along with several gallons of blood and all the sharp objects in Jaune's inventory. Ah, so that's where the dogs had disappeared to.

The tornado had in its five seconds of absence turned into a hurricane, with Morilec at the eye of the storm.

Jaune wasn't able to see through the arcane-enforced wind to see what was happening to Black and his slippery grasp of dimensional comprehension eluded him due to the sheer amount of feelings running through him. He simply floated beside Morilec as the storm raged around them, swords and purple arcane magic encompassing their position completely.

The blood that was in the hurricane shed droplets onto his body, turning his clothing and face red. Jaune idly wondered if it the blood belonged to the dogs or Black.

His body didn't have the mana reserves to feed the storm with arcane magic for any long period of time, even if with superior magic control Morilec had wrung out three times the spells Jaune was able to. Morilec had to sluggishly dodge a few flying swords as the hurricane destabilized and finally settled. Jaune felt elated as he found Black's corpse lying against the battlement, several swords sticking out of it.

"Serves the fucker right," he muttered, to which Morilec chuckled. The demon dragged himself to the broken corpse that slightly resembled a hedgehog and started looting it, getting even more blood on Jaune's hands.

He retrieved a ring from one of Black's remaining fingers and an amulet with the shape of a sun from his neck. "The barrier is dissipating, guards will be here soon," Morilec commented, causing Jaune to panic slightly and look around the scene of the murder.

Blood literally everywhere, weapons stuck in the destroyed floor, an almost unrecognisable corpse that looked like it had been thrown around in a magical hurricane and filled with swords. Which to be fair, it had been.

"Well my part of the deal is finished," Morilec said faintly, causing Jaune's heart to stutter before he found something to retort with.

"Not going to be able to uphold my part of the deal dead, and they will execute me for this. How about you get me somewhere safe first?" he suggested.

It was quite amazing that he had been able to come up with an argument at all considering the fight was still flashing through his head repeatedly. Morilec had only used Jaune's skills and while Black had been much weaker than expected, it was still quite a feat to beat the man who in hindsight probably focused more on non-combat areas of magic.

On the other hand, Morilec hadn't won because of Jaune's skills, despite his ridiculous grasp on them. He had won because, from the start of the fight to the end, he had dictated every single action taken by both sides. From the first arcane bolt to the provocation to use a large scale spell that ended the fight.

This sort of battle experience was not something that Jaune could replicate. It seemed that he had made a deal with a supremely intelligent being/demon/god/whatever Morilec was.

"Ok, I'll get you out of here," Morilec said.

"Thank yo-" Jaune started speaking, but his words got stuck in his throat as he focused again on his body. His body which, after gulping down a healing potion, had climbed onto the smooth battlements and jumped off the tower.

Jaune barely had the time to scream before he was dragged along by the chain connecting them. If he was still in possession of his body he was sure that he would have vomited blood.

 _You say you'll get me out of here, but you just jump off the building. Bro you're too shameless._ Jaune was relieved of his need to pray for an easy passage into the afterlife by Morilec, who laughed and pulled out a broom from somewhere. He straddled it and started flying on the shabby looking thing.

Jaune wished he could lose consciousness again like the last two times he'd dealt with Morilec. Then he wouldn't have to deal with this crap.

Someone else doing the stuff Morilec did would be enlightening in many ways, especially battle tactics. In some ways it'd even be amusing. But the problem Jaune had with the demon's actions was the fact that he was completing those actions while possessing his! body.

He chose to, for now, ignore that a broom, especially such an ugly one, was capable of fligh. Jaune just sullenly floated behind Morilec as he flew above the clouds in the direction of a harbour.

"What is the symbol you want me to use? You've never actually told or shown me." Jaune sighed. Despite all things, he was still grateful for Morilec, who was acting in a way that indicated he would hold his part of the deal.

"I'll get you on a boat and engrave it onto your clothes," was the answer, "but basically it's just a triangle with a circle inside of it bisected by a line."

That was good. It wasn't anything that would come over as rude or indicative of a criminal to others. Symbols were, after all, mostly used by immoral organizations like gangs, nobles, and kingdoms. Though some of those preferred the term 'heraldry.'

If Morilec's symbol had turned out to be any variation of a mandala, the representation of the now-defunct assassin supremacy terrorist organization, Jaune would have had some problems.

"Now that you mention it, your pupils in the shared dreamscape world were also shaped like some geometrical shapes," Jaune remembered. How far did someone want to go to change his own eyes? Or was he born that way? Well, maybe not born. Summoned from the darkest pits of hell that way?

They flew for a bit more before Morilec landed a few miles outside of the actual harbour town. He pulled clothes out of Jaune's inventory and Black's ring. Huh, so the man had been in possession of a spatial ring. Expensive and something useful to study. Who knew, maybe he could replicate such a feat in the future.

As Morilec started his engraving, Jaune was transfixed by the sea. It was his first time seeing it. It was quite beautiful; he only wished he could smell it.

"Done."

Jaune turned around to see Morilec don Jaune's usual style of greaves, leather pants, chainmail and vest. He didn't see the symbol.

Morilec threw on a purple robe that covered him down to his feet and pulled up the hood that hid his eyes. The bisected triangle with a circle inside of it was on the back of the robe, and on the hood above Jaune's forehead, the symbol being placed directly at the inner eye. It also had the function of casting the upper part of his face impenetrable shadows.

"It's not really a big town. You sure they will have a ship that goes towards Vale?" Jaune asked.

He received a shrug as Morilec lifted off his feet with arcane bolts. "We'll just have to go and see now, won't we."

-/-

There was actually a ship headed for Vale, with a stop in Menagerie, and Morilec had gotten Jaune on it before relinquishing control of his body back to him.

Jaune was thankful, but still pretty happy that he finally got himself rid of the probably-devil. He had never found out what exactly Morilec had been, but a semi-friendly devil was the likeliest possibility.

As a last gift, so to say, Morilec had used his flight to get onto the ship, getting awestruck expressions from the sailors. Jaune pissed off to his cabin before he ruined the first impression.

Morilec had reminded him of their deal, not that Jaune had forgotten. Bring renown to the symbol, recommended path to take, guild. This didn't mean he shouldn't try to gain renown on a personal level. Doing that would actually make creating a guild easier.

The best way to do so was, well, to act seriously and worthy of respect. The symbol was basically covering his whole body, so renown for him would lead to renown for it. Most heroes created symbols to be identified with, this would simply be his. He summoned an arcane bolt and tried to form it into the symbol. It failed, but he had enough time. The journey would take a few months.

He noticed a slight increase of his control regardless. Jaune was completely focused on examining the spell for the next few minutes. Mana cost had lessened, more maneuverable, easier to shape, and the explosion he shot out of the small window seemed more impressive than usual.

There really was one reason why something like this could have occurred. Morilec using his body and skills had somehow increased his own grasp of these.

Dimensional comprehension had improved as well, range and quality. Pest control, rend, stealth, and shared dreamscape received no improvements, which made sense as Morilec had not used them in the fight. Inventory though, brought with itself the largest surprise. The skill had been used in a frankly ridiculous way, shedding its boundary of only being accessible from Jaune's hands, to being pushed out as an actual entity, and absorbing not objects, but wind.

And then, as a cherry on top, he had gained two levels.

Rightfully speaking Black should have been worth more than just two, especially with Jaune's low level. But the simple fact of the matter was that it wasn't Jaune who had killed the man. It had been Morilec. He'd just used Jaune's body as a conduit for the act.

The fact that he may gain experience fighting Black had honestly completely slipped his mind. He had been more excited to see how someone else used his skills. He did think that overall the improvement of his skills was worth more than the levels themselves.

Level 24. One more and he would finally get to the meat of dimensionalism, intangibility, teleportation, and so much more. Level 25 was, after all, one-fourth of the journey to level 100, and that had meaning.

He wondered what skill Morilec would have chosen to supplement either his utility or fighting strength. Jaune sighed and wondered if he would ever be able to fight like that. It was possible with training, and he would gain an even larger repertoire of spells in the near future. Hell, he already had something that Morilec didn't. He may still be a gnat in the overall comparison, but Morilec didn't seem to know how to wield a sword.

The fact that the swords had only been thrown and the rend skill not used at all had not gone unnoticed by him.

"I bet I could beat him if I got him into close range." It was unlikely, but his ego needed the boost. Even if it came from a lie and he also needed to stop thinking about the demon. Their interaction was over now. He had other things that needed his attention. Like the fact that he was getting seasick.

A bit queasy, and he was on a ship, so it probably was seasickness, something he had forgotten to take into account. The feeling was novel but not entirely unenjoyable. He wondered how bad it would feel if he didn't have so many points in vitality and that brought him to the question of where to put the two points that he had from the level up.

Well that and searching Black's inventory could be done later. The fact that it was still light out was calling him to enjoy the scenery of the sea while he was still able to see it.

* * *

 **I had so much fun writing that fight, I hope you guys can experience even a half of the joy that I had creating this for yourself.**

 **Read the author's note above by the way, I say some relevant stuff to the future of the story itself and it's update schedule.**

 **I recently realized I write for fun, and since then, I've had more fun doing that.**


	26. Chapter 26

**Check out my new story, a Harry Potter time travel fanfic featuring our favourite adventurer/teacher/author.**

 **Chapter 26**

 **editor: 5th dimension**

* * *

Jaune wondered how much worse his seasickness would be if he didn't have such a high vitality score. He made his way to the deck, where he watched the sailors go about their business shouting nonsensical nautical terms at each other, like "Fore," "Gaff," and "Arc of Visibility." Hey, that was his name!

He held in a small giggle and went over to the steering wheel where the captain, a rather young man by the name of Ercanbald, was shouting commands.

The ship hadn't looked overly big in the harbour, but now that he was actually on it he could admit that he was somewhat impressed by the size of the brigantine. He loitered around, not disturbing anyone and looking around the deck until the captain turned to him. "Is there anything I can do for you sir..." The twenty-something man hesitated. "Light Bringer."

Jaune looked at him blankly. _Why are you talking to me man? I'm just loitering around._ He had concealed his name, only letting his title be shown, which added to his momentary confusion.

Think of something smart to say Jaune. "I'm just looking around, but while I'm here I might as well inform you that I will occasionally be sending out magical attacks into the water to kill Grimm." Jaune thought for a second before adding another bit. "Maybe fish a bit. I heard sharks taste very good."

Ercanbald gave him a weird glance while scratching his sad excuse for a beard. "I didn't know that there were Grimm in these waters, at least not so close to the shore, sir."

Jaune blinked. Well that was weird, he was sensing thirteen right now, tentacle creatures that seemed to be made up of small Taiji with a skull mask covering the bundle of knots holding them together. "I sense several," he blithely commented.

The captain sank a bit further into confusion. NPCs usually didn't understand Grimm behaviour, after all. So Jaune decided to explain further. "They aren't attacking, mostly because there is not much negative emotion to latch onto this ship, and because they simply are not aware that ships are inhabited by humans." He pointed down. "From down there they only see wood. They probably think we are a washed-up log."

The captain seemed skeptical. Well that was bad; Jaune had just decided not an hour ago that he would be gathering renown, and the captain was probably starting to think he was a bit of an idiot. Words in the end didn't convince that many people. Actions though...

Jaune waved at the man to follow him, making his way to one of the guard rails. "Just because there are no dangers perceived by us, does not mean that none are present. We must stay vigilant, in mind and body, if we are to thrive." Jaune sent out an arcane bolt as he said those sophomoric words.

The bolt travelled into the sea, changed direction so it was going up again, and hooked itself into the mask of a tentacle Grimm. He pulled it upwards, creating an arc that ended on Jaune's upheld fist. He splattered his surroundings with the remains of the corpse before the entire thing dissipated.

A mask and some Lien clattered to the ground. One of the younger sailors nearby picked up the items and handed them over to Jaune before he himself had the chance to pick them up. "Here."

"Thanks." Jaune wondered if he should pursue the fact that the man had slipped one of the dropped coins into his own pocket. It would only be problematic if others had seen it as well. If he did not pursue the matter then, he would lose the respect of the other sailors and the captain.

The atmosphere filled with tension as Jaune continued to stare at the man who he'd just thanked. The facial recognition of dimensional comprehension had gone up a level, so he was able to watch the faces of some surrounding sailors morph from glee into slight apprehension. Glee that one of their own had one-upped a hero, probably. The captain was not gleeful, however. He was sweating and his heart was beating quite fast.

Jaune sighed. Seemingly everyone had noticed the thief pocket the coin. Jaune would usually not care. It was one Lien. It was literally not worth his time to pursue the matter. But people had noticed the incident. What was he supposed to do?

As they continued to stand there, the apprehension slowly turned into fear. The thief especially was unable to look away from Jaune and was starting to sweat as well. Honestly. If you weren't good at sleight of hand, why try to steal from a hero? Especially one who had just gained a new commandment to live by.

"Respect is everything," Jaune said lightly, locking eyes with the thief who now started shaking even more. "It is the basis of a society, something that we all participate in." He let his eyes glide down to the pocket containing the coin. "Is this respectful?"

The thief, appeared to be fairly young, with a very patchy moustache. He looked down, hiding his face, and didn't reply. What the hell? Just because you didn't look at a problem didn't mean it would disappear. How old was this guy?

The captain, now that he noticed conflict was unavoidable, finally stepped in. "He asked you a question!" He barked at the thief… Prometheus. Jaune had wasted enough time on the man to start referring to him by name.

"No." A pause. "Sir," Prometheus whispered, still shaking. But no matter how the man tried to conceal it, he could not hide from Jaune. Prometheus face was a rictus of hatred, he wasn't shaking with fear. He was shaking with anger, and the words were meant as an insult.

"The youth of today," Jaune commented and shook his head. He gave out an aura of unbothered authority and power on the outside, but Jaune's inner self was at the stage of biting his nails down to the root.

 _The youth of today? Are you fucking kidding me, that's what you came up with?_ Just verbally admonishing someone but leaving them unharmed and with the money they stole from you reeked of cowardliness.

Arrrghhh. Something more, something more, what could he do!

"Lien is a very special concept," Jaune started lecturing to the still-bowing Prometheus. "You gain it by investing your time into something. It is a physical representation of time and effort." He looked around, pupils glowing an electric purple. "I think everyone here agrees that life itself is time and effort. A life is simply the time you spend doing things. So Lien, in fact can be considered to be life itself, a part of your existence."

Jaune raised his hands into the air, as if revealing a divine truth. "Therefore theft can't really be considered a petty crime. The logical conclusion is that theft is attempted murder of a small part of someone's existence." The lower part of his face that was visible to others contorted itself into a grin. The upper, non-visible part was sweating.

"And the attempted murder of a hero is followed by an immediate execution of the perpetrator!" Jaune shouted out, wheezing out a laugh to appear more menacing. Fame and infamy, two sides of the same coin. Both were good.

All hatred had fled Prometheus' features. He had collapsed to his knees, trembling with a pale face. He didn't try to run; there was nowhere to run too. They were out on the sea.

Everyone was quiet, except for the soft sobbing of the would-be thief. Maybe Jaune had gone too far. He didn't want to kill anyone. A way out should be offered. The captain was the first to come to himself. Well, he was probably the captain for a reason, even if he left Jaune personally underwhelmed.

It was his fault for not stepping up that Jaune had to think fast and conclude the situation in a satisfactory manner. Something he was struggling with, but not something he could stop now that he'd started.

Jaune raised his hand, shutting him up before he started. "I'm not a cruel man." Everyone present was a bit too terrified to give him weird looks, although some of the older sailors cast doubtful glances at Prometheus' still-crying form. "I have a possibility of redemption for you, young man. While I don't like apologies, accepting labour for the coin you stole is completely acceptable." Jaune stepped forward and laid a hand on the thief's shaking shoulder. "Is that fine with you?" he asked gently.

Prometheus broke down crying. "Anyth-ing, I'll do anything." Jaune stepped back to avoid getting his robes cried on and smiled. Even if Prometheus wasn't looking up to see it. Jaune had harboured the fear that the sailors would simply gank him. He was the outsider, after all. But looking around and seeing the faces surrounding him, he realized that that would never happen. They looked scared shitless.

"Now we should probably determine exactly how much time you owe me," Jaune continued as Prometheus' sobbing stopped completely. "The problem you are faced with young man, is that you don't only have to pay back the one coin you stole, but also the time I wasted resolving this situation." He thumped his chest. "Now as you have noticed, I am of the hero caste. I am also good at what I do."

Another shark-like smile. It didn't feel quite right, so Jaune decided to practice it in the mirror later. "Extermination. In the ten minutes I spent resolving this issue, I could have killed approximately two hundred and thirty Grimm, each valued at maybe five or so Lien." And there it was. The hope vanished from the thief's eyes, replaced with incredulity and then despair in quick succession.

Sailors around him gasped as they plodded through mental hundred and thirty times five equalled about twelve hundred Lien. That was more money than most of them made in a month.

This was kind of fun, now that he'd managed to stumble into controlling the situation. "Now again, I'm not a cruel man," Jaune said before anyone could call him out on his bullshit. "Instead of calculating the potential maximum of what I could have earned in those ten minutes, I'll instead give you an estimate on how much I could have actually earned considering my location." He stomped on the ground. "As you know, we are on a ship. There aren't two hundred and thirty Grimm in the vicinity of course, but there still are some." Jaune pretended to get a bit miffed. "Some that I missed. We sailed past them due to the fact that I was dealing with you."

"You said thirteen," the captain whispered from behind his right shoulder.

"Yes. One of them I killed, creating this little issue. Twelve left. Three of whom are still in range so they can't be counted against you. That means I could have killed nine of them, which amounts to forty-five Lien." Some of the sailors goggled at him as he calculated at what to them seemed a fast pace. "Captain, how much does our murderer here earn in an hour, an estimate please?"

Ercanbald crossed his eyes, steam rising from his ears. Sailors weren't paid per hour, they were paid before going on land, a percentage of what the ship in total earned. But Aschirngthvarbuddhstak was understandably unwilling to argue that fact with Jaune and was thus calculating it in his head.

"I would say... five per hour sir."

Jaune clapped his hands and glanced at the relieved thief. "See, it's that simple. You'll just pay me off by working eight hours. Now, is there anything you're particularly good at?" Jaune asked, having no idea what the hell the man could actually do that would help him.

Prometheus licked his lips and stammered, "W-Woodworking, uh, ropemaking..." The man scratched his head trying to come up with something more.

Jaune interrupted his thought process. "Say no more, woodworking it is." He pulled out several pieces of wood from his inventory, but flourished his newly acquired spacial storage ring so as to make it seem like it came out of there instead. "You will work eight hours carving out this symbol." He pointed to the symbol drawn on his hood. "The size should be appropriate for necklaces or bracelets. Maybe one big one as a room decoration."

A nod.

Jaune had spent enough time on this, so with those last instructions he departed amidst wide-eyed gazes of what must have been awe at his eloquence and graciousness. It felt good to be respected.

-/-

Back in his cabin Jaune threw himself onto the berth. "Why is this bed so hard," he muttered while marvelling at his quick-thinking ability to get out of crap like that.

It had been harder to think up ways to steer the situation than it should have been. Normally he would have just ignored it, uncaring about the fact that the NPCs might lose respect for him. But the appearance he had to cultivate now was a different animal entirely. Respect, fame, infamy. Behaviour and reactions to things around him would have to be changed to fit the mould of someone trying to gain all these things.

Jaune had considered the deal he made with Morilec quite one-sided towards Jaune. He gained his life, basically, and Morilec received another person spreading the renown of his symbol. One amongst many, most likely.

But the way he had just forced himself to act made him reconsider that belief of unfairness towards the demon. He would have to change how he reacted to things and what he valued. Wasn't that basically changing who he was?

Morilec had simply invested one day of his life. Jaune would have to change his entirely and invest the rest of his.

A deal's a deal. It was time to construct a persona.

-/-

The premise for his future behaviour, Jaune decided, would have to be an act of mysterious ambiguity. He wasn't powerful, therefore even going all out, he wouldn't be able to impress anyone. But if he acted ambiguously, keeping his thoughts and capabilities hidden to a small extent, people would most likely overestimate what he was actually keeping from them. It was common sense. Better to overestimate someone than to do the opposite.

The rest of his actions would have to be situational, fitted to every person and group he interacted with individually. Kindness in front of some. Cruelty in front of others. Even so, he wasn't a cruel person and would try to avoid it if he could.

Now that he had a very vague idea of how he was going to try to act in future situations, Jaune constructed and ran himself through several internal scenarios, imaginary scenes where he interacted with others in all manner of situations, all aimed at gaining the greatest amount of renown possible of course.

The memory of how he'd thought to himself that he should practice his threatening smile in a mirror came to him and thus Jaune pulled out the aforementioned object.

Then he went through more mental simulations, all the while pulling the appropriate faces. His facial muscles were underdeveloped in comparison to the rest of his body. Which was only natural, so he got sore quickly.

He was not willing to give up after only a few hours, so Jaune pulled out one of his many empty journals and titled a section of it Linguistics. Being able to articulate properly was helpful in the pursuit of renown.

Jaune wondered why he was so motivated to chase down the goal of someone else. While he was thankful to Morilec, he rightfully shouldn't be this eager to work on his promise.

Then he remembered that every human wanted respect from others. It made life easier, more enjoyable, and the body released some internal composite that was supposed to make you feel good.

Now Jaune wasn't sure what the basis of that was, but the researcher who had written that book had been highly acclaimed. Hadn't his name been Jain? Strange coincidence.

Back on topic, by fulfilling his obligation of getting renown Jaune was helping himself as well.

Jaune would say that making that deal had actually been good for him. Otherwise he probably wouldn't have come to the realization that he wanted to be respected for some time. Wonderings of what intangible things he actually wanted and how to achieve those things didn't really come up often in his inner monologues.

Enough of that. No matter how enthused he was thinking up ways to gain renown, he still got sick of it after a while.

It was night out and the ship was quiet. The only sound Jaune heard were the waves crashing against the hull. He would normally be asleep by now, but he had a few more things to do first.

Like checking out his new space ring and what was inside it. Jaune pulled the thing out of a pocket and prodded at it, magically and with a finger. He had been leery of putting what was basically an inventory into his inventory; it sounded like a potentially bad idea. The implosion-of-reality-around-him kind of bad.

Examining the ring physically revealed nothing. Dimensional comprehension however had quite a few bits of interesting information to deliver. The ring itself wasn't magical in the strictest term. It was simply a physical object that was used to anchor the dimension of the ring's inventory to the world. The dimensional space was a balloon that would fly away if it wasn't bound by rope to the ground that was the ring. Or rather, more like a balloon that would dissolve.

Jaune patted himself on the back for the great metaphor.

Since it was ring Jaune assumed that he would have to wear it to gain access to the thing. Which he only did because Morilec had used it in the past, proving that it was harmless. And even if it hadn't been, it probably was now after passing through the demon's hands. Jaune would need to be alive to conclude his side of the bargain, and giving him something deadly was not conducive to that. Not many people respect corpses, even less the symbol on a corpse.

Jaune put on the ring and marvelled as the seemingly magicless thing fitted itself exactly to the proportions of his right ring finger.

No magic to be felt, just like he hadn't been able to feel the insect crawling on the door of his cell. Both of those phenomena were tied directly to the now-deceased Black, which lessened his worry. Dimensional comprehension had weaknesses, but the man who had made him aware of these was now dead.

Accessing the dimensional space took some time, but was eventually solved by simply shoving mana in the form of a key at the link between ring and space. A slight mental prod assailed him from the direction of the ring and he lowered his meagre mental defences to let his mind be filled by...

An entire library, one that was at least a fourth as big as Brorusalem's. Thousands of books.

Holy shit. Jaune's mind flew over the titles of the books. A few written in languages he didn't know, others had nonsensical titles that he couldn't make heads or tails of. But most of them, most of them were books about magic. And at least a tenth of all of those books on magic detailed his branch of it. Dimensionalism and its offshoots.

"There must be at least a hundred of them," Jaune gasped to himself. It made sense. Black had been feverishly interested in a portal to another world, and something like that was best achieved by dimensional magic.

Jaune lightly slapped himself to awaken from his stupor. Just because the books were there didn't mean they were worth the paper they were written on. Though it did beg the question of why Black would fill up space with useless things. Regardless, the space ring had much more than just books. Brooms, magical ones, flying ones, like the one Morilec had flown. Wands, what must have been hundreds of them. Just as shabbily made as the brooms, but still evoking the feeling of a deep magic having been ground into its wood.

Jaune salivated when he came to the small pile of artefacts. And they were artefacts, clearly. No normal items could be so exquisite and enchanting to look at. It would make sense for Black to have a few of those. The man had clearly been making his own in the form of flying brooms and wands. He had definitely studied artefacts to help him with understanding how they worked and how to create them.

What really caught his eye, however was the Helmet. Capitalization intended. A closed burgonet helmet. A simple design, the only thing distinguishing it from others was the serrated teeth etched onto its mouth piece and its colour pallet.

It was beautiful because of its simplicity, not despite it. It was a flat gray, except for the serrated teeth, which were a glowing neon green.

Jaune chuckled and then grew melancholy. With this and the vambraces he'd spotted somewhere else in the pile, he could become a knight. Well, look like one at least. Not a full-plated one of course, but the style of a knight was often distinguished by the fact that they wore a helmet, usually a closed one.

Wasn't that something he'd wished for in his youth? To become a knight, or at least gather enough equipment to act like one? Jaune retrieved the beautiful helmet and the scaled steel vambraces.

He started putting on and taking off the newly acquired artefacts to determine what effect they had. The helmet had a glow-in-the-dark effect stemming from its toothy design. It also regulated the temperature within itself to fit the wearer's desires. Hilariously non-combat oriented, but useful in other ways. Ironic that he would find something to help him with the sweltering heat of Vacuo just as he was departing from it.

The vambraces held a more combat-ready effect. It slowly shaved away at the durability of weapons that struck them. Fitting, given the scale design. Not really something that synergized well with his fighting style, since Jaune seldom blocked or parried attacks, but it was a superior quality set made of metal that he could wear.

No more leather, just good reliable steel, even if it was heavier. The positives greatly outweighed the fact that he would be losing some of his speed. Jaune aligned the armour parts on his bed in order that one would wear them and started putting them on.

Greaves, chainmail, vambraces, and helmet. The only thing really missing were some shoulder pads and something to guard the thighs.

He pulled out a mirror from the space ring. Jaune set the thing down and looked at himself, quickly discovering Morilec's mark on every singe scale of the vambraces and on the temples of the helmet. Weird, how come he hadn't noticed before?

Most likely a spell that engraved the mark on everything once it was taken out of the space ring. Unimportant. Jaune looked at himself.

He looked like a knight.

Didn't he need a guise for Beacon that would make people suspect there was greater strength hiding beneath the surface? A knight he would be then, one who tried to hide the fact he was actually a mage, but was bad at doing so. A shabby knight, Jaune corrected himself.

"You carry yourself well, but clothes make the man and yours sure do suck. Maybe try to wear something that actually fits together next time, hmmm?"

The mirror apparently agreed.

* * *

 **The first half, scene with Prometheus the thief feels a bit clunky, maybe it's due to the fact that at the moment of writing this I've read and edited it over five times. I feel like it isn't bad that it feels clunky though. It matches well with Jaune's inexperience in such situations, he has been travelling mostly alone after all. His social skills are not top notch, and this is the first time he's had to seek a direct confrontation with the goal of garnering respect.**

 **I had fun writing that scene, did the 1800 words in two days.**


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

 **Edited by: 5th dimension**

 **Warning; This will get bloody**

* * *

Apart from the eventful first day on the ship, Jaune concluded that sea travel was in truth quite boring. He only stepped out occasionally, to kill all the Grimm in vicinity. The sea had long lost its lustre. In the end, it truly was simply an unfamiliar, endless expanse of blue, its saltiness sometimes blown harshly into his face by a passing gale.

So he was understandably quite glad when the land of Menagerie came into sight. They'd stopped in several docks along the coast of Vacuo and southern Vale, but those had been brief respites.

Their docking in Kuo Kuana would be for much longer, picking up more trading goods and maybe a passenger or two before heading to Vale. It would be a reprieve from his discussions about navigation with the captain and the seemingly endless amount of time he spent in his room, either reading or doing callisthenics.

His happiness at walking on actual earth for the first time in weeks almost made him forget what Menagerie was. Almost.

Stealth classes were, after all, the bane of all mages. And Menagerie was nothing but filled with them. Half the people he walked by on the shabbily-cobbled street weren't even civilians, but dark figures with their hoods drawn up, so as to hide their classes.

Did it really matter if your class was hidden if the mere fact you were hiding revealed what it was?

Jaune paused, considering his own hidden class. Someone ran into him from behind, the grubby thug opening his yap to say something but quailing away and moving on at Jaune's violet-green burning eyes.

Neat trick, that.

Well, probably everyone hid their class here. But there was still a definite overrepresentation of stealth classes in the heroes present. You could tell by their equipment. Not many warriors bothered dressing in leather armour and carrying knives.

Jaune moved on. The peddlers on Main Street didn't really interest him; they were mostly selling food. It was the most important resource after water, but it wasn't the type of food Jaune was interested in. Dried up turnips (the purple variant) and some sickly potatoes…

Jaune preferred more high-quality food, so when he spotted the first off-branching alley that appeared to cater to more well-off customers, he ducked in to explore a bit.

He did not fail to notice the three shadows that followed him from Main Street, that were now inconspicuously browsing wares that they probably couldn't even afford to look at.

Dimensional comprehension let him see into every shop, making sure it was not an ambush point, and being aware of their presence meant he could simply go back into Main Street and avoid any alleyways on his way back to the ship.

He kept perusing wares, buying some delicacies and picking up empty journals. Summarizing the important parts of Black's books had demolished his supply.

Jaune wasn't in any danger, but that didn't mean others knew that. A girl approached him as he was contemplating if he should buy caviar at a fish store. (The owner was a mage, so all the fish were sprawled out on blankets of ice. Genius idea.) She wore the usual getup of an assassin's: leather, cloak, and daggers. Her hood concealed her descriptors, but could not do the same for her faunus heritage.

"You're being followed," she whispered to him, standing next to him and gazing longingly at a tuna fish.

"I know right? They're not very good it," was Jaune's reply. The girl didn't have enough Lien in her pouch for any of the stuff in this district, so what she was doing here?

Jaune purchased the tuna she had been gazing at, received it packed in some nice brown paper, and unceremoniously handed it to his would-be rescuer. Who received it stiffly, almost flinching away at the unexpected gesture.

She really took her faunus heritage too seriously. Just because you had cat ears didn't mean you should attempt to emulate the animal's behaviour.

"Thanks for caring, I-" can take care of it, was what he was about to say, but he stopped mid-sentence when he noticed someone he knew, talking with his would-be followers.

Prometheus had done good work on the carvings. Jaune was now a proud owner of four pendants bearing the mark of death. Death was what he'd been told the symbol should be referred to as. An innocuous little piece of paper that had been stuck in one of his journals had informed him of this.

He also has one fairly big, but crude carving of the thing. What he was trying to say was that he'd forgiven the thief, but apparently the thief had not forgiven him.

After some more words, Prometheus and what was probably his followers' leader parted ways. The most likely possibility was that Prometheus was a little snitch who informed this band of miscreants on high value targets that travelled to Kuo Kuana, and then worked together with them to lure them into places where they were then robbed. It was not certain, but it would be fairly easy to prove his hypothesis.

Someone lightly shook his shoulder, the girl. "Are you alright?" she asked gently.

The three followers were all young, and most likely city-dwellers. Which meant weak, but having backup would be nice...

Jaune waved her off. "Just observing my would-be followers. I've decided to spring their trap." She frowned. "How much Lien to acquire your backup in case something goes wrong?"

Her friendly demeanour disappeared at the insinuation that she was purchasable. Bad phrasing on his part. "I'm not for sale. I did my part in warning you and do not feel obligated to help when you decide to leap into trouble on your accord."

Jaune's second mistake was probably pulling out a filled moneybag and shaking it in front of her face, making the coins jingle their own little tune. "Thousand Lien with your name on it."

She left after that. Taking the tuna he'd bought as thanks with her. Smart one, she didn't just dump the gift because she now disliked him. Jaune could admire the practicality over emotion in that simple gesture. Though she could have earned another thousand by not being offended. But there were lines people did not want to cross. He respected that.

He didn't need her though. He was enough for three scamps with underdeveloped muscles and low-quality gear. Dimensional comprehension was very useful in scouting out the strength of an enemy before engagement. He had really underestimated its ability to let him pick his fights.

Jaune made his way back on the Main Street and ambled towards where Prometheus was. Two alleys away from the docks, namely, along with another little rogue. That would make four. Five if the sailor also participated in the fight.

After a bit more walking and halting to look at merchandise (he had to make it look natural after all, or they might call the operation off), he reached the point where he could see Prometheus as he stood, very unconvincingly at the entrance to their chosen alley. The sailor waved at him, also seeing him, and was dragged back into the darkness of the side street by an arm around his neck the second after that.

Nobody around Main Street seemed to care enough to even gasp at the occasion, probably used to it. The three followers were still there, closer now, he'd also gained one following observer on the rooftops. Jaune ran into the side street, faster than anybody had expected a mage to run apparently, since his followers paused in surprise before frantically running after him.

The bait was quick. They'd managed to take one turn before he caught up to them, taking their fight out of sight of Main Street.

The highly stereotypical thug held a dagger to Prometheus' throat while using him as a shield. "Stop or your friend gets it." He looked wary. Good.

Jaune didn't stop, shooting a few bursts of arcana behind him to accelerate even further, and while the two were in the process of stumbling back, he gathered a rend around both his arms.

Just before he would have collided with them, Jaune grinded to a halt by pushing his greaves into the stones under his feet, transferring all his momentum through his body in a whip-like motion to his hands, which snaked forward through Prometheus's hastily erected guard.

The dimensional cutting spell was best used in tandem with a sharp weapon. Here, it wasn't necessary. One of Jaune's hands sheared through the sailor's solar plexus, the other through his stomach. Both of them continued onwards into the thug behind, assisted by arcane bolts firing out of Jaune's elbows. But his arms weren't long enough to stab the thug all the way through.

Arcane bolt.

Twin explosions caused the already dirty wall behind the thug to be marred even further, this time splattered in much more visceral liquids than just vomit.

Ping. A notification cheerfully informed Jaune that he had risen to level twenty-five.

The two corpses on his arms were too heavy. Prometheus coughed a glob of blood into Jaune's hood as a last unconscious act of spite, before he, along with the thug, were dislodged with a sickening 'schlop.' Like the sound of a vacuum suddenly being filled. But... fleshier.

Jaune turned around to the three followers that had now caught up to him. By the looks on their faces they were wishing they hadn't.

No words spoken, they, as a unit, turned around and started running.

No screams.

No hesitation.

No chance.

Jaune teleported himself amidst the three of them in a crack of displaced air and promptly stumbled. He grabbed out instinctively and managed to grasp the head of the only one of them who was using a skill, some sort of shadow engulfing his legs letting him run faster.

The wide blue eyes stared at him in fright from between his fingers before he slammed the head along with the body into the cobbled ground. There, that helped steady his footing. The arcane bolt he released as the head made impact sealed the deal. The street was given another paint job, not that the artist was there to see it.

He could feel the remaining two thieves through dimensional comprehension. The skill provided a better map of the surroundings he was teleporting himself into than his sight. Which was probably the point, Jaune thought as he appeared before the two survivors. Skills of a class were supposed to synergize. A kick to the chest of the thinner thief probably broke some bones, judging by the sound.

A sweep of his hand towards the neck of the burlier thief had no chance to actually reach its target from the beginning until a sword blinked into existence, neatly decapitating the thief who ran into the edge at full speed. The head fell to the ground and started rolling along, passing the bend that would have brought the fleeing robber-wannabes into sight of the Main Street. Their salvation? Doubtful.

Nobody heard the thump as the head rolled to a stop on the wall. It would have been very dramatic if it had stopped in a position where the eyes were gazing accusingly at their killer. Alas, it was not to be, the head ended up face down.

The fight hadn't even lasted half a minute. Well. Fight was a bit of a misnomer. More like a slau-.

A wet rasp brought Jaune's attention back to the matter at hand, namely the last living member of the little robber band. The hood had fallen from the man's face after he'd been knocked down. His name was Bob.

Bob looked at him dejectedly, not looking all too well. Which was understandable. He did have a broken sternum. Before he could start begging for mercy, Jaune silenced him with a finger to his lips. "Shush you, I'm thinking."

With a gulp, Bob nodded and stilled on the ground, choosing to not look at his probably future murderer and looking upwards. Jaune couldn't fault him. Gazing at lazily passing clouds, drifting along in a bright summer day was probably easier than looking at what the poor thief must've thought was some sort of monster.

Now, the question Jaune had to ask himself was, what could he gain from this situation? There weren't many ways he can spin this. The men were dead, one injured. He would loot them of course. The two remaining questions were if he should let Bob live, and how he should display the corpses.

The object of his third question had run away in the meantime. The girl who had warned him of his followers had followed him on the rooftops, hand fiddling with a dagger, considering if the arrogant mage should be saved.

She had left with a hand held before her mouth, so her vomit would make no sound as it violently rose from her stomach and trickled down her neck.

-/-

Jaune pulled on the corpse that he had impaled into the wall with the daggers he'd taken off his would-be robbers, making sure that it was well and truly stuck there now. Nodding to himself, he dipped his crusty fingers into the clean cut on the neck and drew the symbol of death. Triangle, circle, line, where the head of the dead man would have been. He stepped back not to admire his work, but to see if there was anything more to be done.

The arms were spread out, impaled hands holding them up. The feet had been stuck together with a short sword through the gaps of flesh between the metatarsal bones. When taking the symbol replacing the head into consideration, the entire spectacle took the shape of a cross.

Jaune glanced at the corpse that had the contents of its skull decorating the street, another symbol of death drawn in the gray matter splattered on the ground.

He walked further on, startling Bob, who had just about finished drawing the symbol, but bigger, on the wall that had suffered from his first two kills.

"You'll live." Jaune said, to the visible relief of Bob.

"Death comes to all, but you can escape its grasp for a bit more." Jaune fumbled around his inventory before pulling out one of the wooden pendants the now deceased Prometheus had created for him. He'd threaded cord through them, so he probably should just start referring to the things as symbol necklaces.

He threw it at Bob, who caught it while wheezing, one hand clutching his chest. "Here."

Bob stayed standing, clutching the necklace in his right hand.

"Well, wear it. That's the whole point of the thing," Jaune had to say to make the thief put it on. Without saying a word.

Well, Jaune had told him to be quiet.

"You can leave now." He waved him off, walked past the hobbling man to the graffitied walls. "Oh, and if you ever take it off? I'll kill you," Jaune added as he dipped his fingers in blood for what was hopefully the last time in a while.

The sound of footsteps quickened.

A symbol was a symbol. But having a bit more to accompany it would raise its memetic value. Jaune had been thinking of a phrase to write down as he decorated the alley.

And he'd found it.

He charged some mana into his finger and started writing. The mana was necessary because blood dried into a murkish red-brown, which was not so easy to make out against the murkish-gray of the walls behind it. Mana made the blood a bit more... vibrant.

Jaune had never thought that learning about what was basically magical painting would ever help him in any capacity. But here he was. He dotted the i's and stood back to admire the ominous-looking words, with an even more ominous symbol above them.

Very deep. Very nonsensical, but Jaune considered it a sentence that would stick with people.

 _The Goal of All Life is Death._

-/-

Jaune noticed that he had a slight problem as he walked back to the docks. The fact that he had decorated an alley in the blood of his enemies was good and all, but the highly distinctive symbol he'd used was present all over his clothes. All of his clothes.

He smacked a palm into his face, before removing it in disgust.

He had just left the market area.

Jaune turned around and hurried off towards the nearest shop selling clothes. He bought an unmarked cloak and used it to replace his stylish purple one. A downgrade was fine as long as it ensured some safety.

People would inevitably remember the fact that someone bearing the symbol had left The Lad (the name of his ship). The attire was made to be distinctive, after all. But for all that it mattered, that mysterious figure had disembarked in this town and was not coming back, having reached its destination.

Jaune Arc, young mage, however, would board the ship, free of any suspicions, to attend Beacon Academy in Vale and then promptly switch back into his symbolised clothes. News of the small slaughter would never make it to Vale due to it not being very important, and the sailors wouldn't care. Couldn't afford to care due to their weakness. Generally nobody would care about the death of some scum, but the presentation thereof may have raised some eyebrows and concerns.

The captain had apparently come back before even Jaune, which was odd, since the man should have many more things to settle in Kuo Kuana than Jaune did. Dock permit, trading goods acquisition, and whoring. All of those activities would probably take longer than Jaune's short stroll through the market.

Jaune approached the neutral-faced captain and asked, "What ails you Ercanbald?" The facade of the man broke a little at the question and he grunted and sighed.

"I'll be blunt. A Merchant Prince is trying to monopolize the trading market of Kuo Kuana and has hired assassins to "inform" anyone who tries to purchase anything." Ercanbald said with a gruff voice.

Jaune blinked. That came out of nowhere. "I was just at the market. The atmosphere seemed fairly normal, if a bit stifling, which is expected of such a place." Maybe the thugs had also had a secondary mission in accosting him. If so, he'd definitely stepped on some toes. "I imagine the jumped-up merchant prince will be dealt with soon enough. One particularly high-level assassin is bound to lose someone important to him if the planned takeover you described is truly a city-wide occurrence. But just because it will be dealt with does not mean that we should stay here in the meanwhile. I imagine we're waiting for the crew to come back before we set sail?"

The captain grunted in agreement. He seemed very standoffish. Understandable. If his words were true, he was losing his men to assassins at the very moment and would also run a deficit on this particular venture.

Jaune looked around the docks. They were mostly empty, and now he knew why. Had the other captains slash merchants known of this happening beforehand? Or had they also lost men, money, and then cut their losses?

The captain visibly tensed next to him. Jaune turned his head to where the man was looking.

There was a commotion at the gangplank. One of the tougher-looking sailors was arguing with a girl. It seemed she wanted to book passage to Vale, but Guts, the sailor, was obviously unwilling to let an obvious assassin on board.

It was the girl that had tried to warn him of the ambush and then followed him, presumably to save his dumbass when he got stuck in over his head. No saving had been required, and he'd most likely traumatised her. She also didn't seem like the type of person that would let herself be bought to kill innocents. She'd balked at being bought to kill robbers.

Attempting a good deed though, should be rewarded, even if the deed itself was unnecessary. "I vouch for that girl," Jaune said, loudly enough for the captain, Guts, and the girl to hear him.

The captain gripped the railing and Guts stilled, backing off from the situation that was beyond his pay-grade. The girl flinched and looked ready to bolt when she caught sight of him. Had she recognised the visible bottom portion of his face, or his voice?

The captain respected him. Jaune was banking on that. The man would at least consider it.

The girl was hesitating, glancing at the rest of the docked ships. A few fishing boats that would get her nowhere, two galleons, and one other brigantine. All smaller than theirs and probably not even heading to Vale.

"The other ship that could take you to Vale isn't heading there. They're going to Mistral," Ercanbald informed the girl. "Get on and we will discuss it."

The girl acquiesced. Jaune wondered where'd she'd left the fish.

-/-

There had been a few concessions to be made for Blake's passage. Blake was the assassin girl's name, as the first concession had been for her to reveal her name. Which she had done, somehow managing to make her descriptors only give her first name and class. The second was that she would keep to her cabin at day and only come out at night for the month required to reach Vale. Unless of course she wanted to dress like a civilian.

Which she vehemently refused. Jaune could respect her being proud of her own class, and wanting to display that, but inconveniencing yourself to do so was going a bit far.

The third concession was the one that had Blake almost jumping off the ship. She was to be watched over by the only person on board who could reliably keep track of her and stop her if she, as the captain feared, attempted to kill everyone and take over the vessel.

Jaune requested no monetary compensation for the service or the fact he would be sharing his room with an assassin. It had been his idea to let her on board after all. And he wasn't afraid of her either. Dimensional comprehension woke him up if anything that it recognized as a danger to him tried to get too close to him or took any threatening actions.

It was odd that the skill wasn't capable of ranking up. It was clearly improving, range, detail, and now Jaune had (with some questionable self-hypnosis and mental triggers attached to the skill) made it capable of being semi-active in his sleep and waking him up by putting pressure on the part of the brain it affected. The downside was that he now required an hour more of sleep on average.

Blake turned to him when they were alone in hi- their cabin. "Why did you help me?" she asked, sounding quite angry for someone asking that question. Was it anger at him in particular for helping her, anger at herself for needing help, or anger at the fact that she thought she was undeserving of help?

Jaune got the feeling that it might have been a mix of all three. Maybe she was suspecting ulterior motives? Which to be fair, he did have. In the heat of battle he had revealed his teleport skill to her and the robber that had survived.

But while Bob knew, it was highly unlikely that he would leave Kuo Kuana, go to Vale, and mention how he had tried to rob this one guy and gotten his sternum kicked in. Blake however, was travelling, was going to Vale. And from her apparent age, her destination was the same as his.

Her travelling with him meant that he could get to know her. Was she someone who revealed the skills of others, something which was considered incredibly rude and oftentimes malicious against your fellow man? Well, if she was such a person, she would not be able to get away from him on a ship. Jaune doubted Ercanbald and Guts would care if she were to quietly disappear one night to go frolic with the fishes.

Normally it wouldn't even matter that she had seen him teleport. He had his name hidden along with his face. But being the only person running around wearing the symbol of death kind of made it obvious who the dimensional mage was. Nobody was going to buy the fact that he was already level fifty, where some other fringe mage classes unlocked the teleport skill, or that he was simply that fast.

He would have to remember to keep his more questionable activities better hidden, changing his clothes when he was finished, for example. It wasn't like it would be hard, with his access to not one, but two inventories.

"Are you ignoring me?" she bristled.

Jaune shook his head. "No, I was simply thinking of an answer to your question. I imagine saying that it was simply the right thing to do would be unsatisfying."

"Why was it the right thing to do?" she asked, making sure that he knew that the answer indeed needed further clarification.

Jaune needed something to stall with while he came up with an answer, so he pulled down his hood, releasing his hair and revealing the upper part of his face. "Having an extended conversation with someone, while having our faces hidden is uncomfortable. Also, why don't we sit down?" Jaune asked and then promptly plopped himself down on his bed.

His words startled Blake out of her frozen state.

She was probably taken aback by how handsome he was.

* * *

 **While desecrating the dead may seem like a dishonorable tactic, Jaune is stuck in his mindset of everything for fame at the moment, and rationalizes it with the fact that corpses can't have their feelings hurt.**


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

 **Editor: 5th dimension**

* * *

Jaune watched, sat on his cot as Blake made herself comfortable on the floor, leaning on the wall opposite of him. Him being elevated and her being on the floor was what he had been banking on when he'd sat on the cot.

He had left space open for her, but sitting in a bed with a stranger was beyond what most people would be willing to do. They would willingly sit themselves on the floor to avoid it. Willingly put themselves in a position of someone lesser... The effect would of course be stronger if Blake didn't know what he was doing and how he was doing it.

Jaune doubted she suspected anything. She seemed more street-smart than anything else. The type of manipulation he'd just put into action was on a slightly more refined level than what she was probably used to.

"The reason why I helped you is… I'm bound to my own view of the world, I guess," Jaune started. "I could say that I helped you because you attempted to help me, when you seemingly had no reason too."

She made to speak but he raised a hand to halt her.

"You might say that anyone would have done what you did, warning a stranger of a potential ambush where he might lose more than just his material goods. But..." He locked eyes with her yellow ones, sparking a small amount of arcane in his. "Look inside your heart, no matter how cliché it sounds. Do you really believe many others would have done the same as you?"

Stopping someone as they were about to speak, and forcing them to say something else than what they originally wanted...

Blake broke eye-contact. Looked down. "No, not many," She admitted.

"Could you please raise your head?" Jaune asked. "You have done nothing to warrant shame, and should not act in any way that suggests it." He chuckled. "Unless you think having a subconscious belief in the good of humanity is something to be ashamed of."

Blake raised her head and he was able to lock eyes with her again. They were quite pretty, now that they had lost their hostility.

Suggest something that the target was going to do anyway, make it seem like it was your idea, and therewith implying that they were foolish enough to need your guidance in something as simple as that. Dependence.

Then, ask for a favour that the target would have no reason of refusing. People don't do favours for anybody, therefore if they did one for you, you must be their friend. Why would they go out of their way otherwise? The construction of a positive bond.

The simple act of a compliment, paired with the commandment, thou shalt not feel ashamed. I am your absolver, your judge, your executioner.

"It's not something to be ashamed of, but it is quite naïve, I admit. It does lead well into my reasoning behind helping you." Jaune continued waffling as Blake listened.

Belittlement, you are something lesser than me. Immediately followed by something else to grasp their attention. Making the act of putting them below you seep into their psyche without any chance to analyse the words actively.

"I do not believe in the inherent good of humanity, quite the opposite really, I believe in its limitless malice." He raised a hand to interrupt her again. "That does not mean that I want it to be that way. I rather like the idea of inherent goodness actually. That means for me, rewarding such acts when I can. After all, if you experience positive consequences from your acts of good you are more likely to continue committing them aren't you?"

Always ask questions, rhetorical ones if you can. If they are busy answering questions they can't actively steer the conversation and rhetorical questions leave very little open in the way of variation.

Blake snorted. And the anger returned to her, the colour changed alongside her emotions, interesting. They were more amber than yellow now. "And how does you wanting to do good compute with how you killed those men? With how strong you are you could have simply incapacitated them."

It won't always work of course, that's why you should phrase your words in such a way that when your target breaks away from your script, they are more likely to do so in a very specific way. A specific way that you have already planned for.

"It works quite well, really." Jaune raised his hands and lowered them in a calming gesture as Blake bristled. "Just as acts of good are to be rewarded to incentivise them, acts of evil must be punished with a brutal severity to deter others from walking down that path."

The words must have pushed a very deep-seated button in the girl, as she slammed a fist onto the floor and shouted at him. "You can't just divide the world into good and evil!" She continued, suddenly more quietly. "They could have been redeemed."

Interesting. Her stance implied that she herself was someone who did not want to be judged in black and white, which of course implied that if she were to be judged she would be painted black. Also someone who had likely been redeemed, or was in the process of doing so.

She could also be a moralist.

Jaune seemingly ignored her. "Of course if nobody is there to spread the word of how the act of evil was punished, it won't deter a great many people. Therefore I let one live. Thankfully I am strong enough to choose which, and I chose the one who seemed the most at odds with what they were doing."

The anger receded from Blake's eyes and she slumped into herself. Seemingly exhausted.

If someone is foolish enough, to bare to a stranger one of their core beliefs, of how they view the world, then they are truly an idiot, for they have just handed you the key to their heart. Now, you simply have to turn it and open the door.

Jaune of course had not chosen to spare Bob because of any supposed chance at redemption, Bob had simply been the only one to survive his initial attack and it was preferable for someone to survive and spread the word, so to say.

He stood up. "Now if you'll excuse me, the ship is about to depart. I must speak with the captain. You can use the time to think on how to continue the conversation if you wish to do so." And he promptly left.

Suggest people what to do with their time. Once you have a grip on that, you own them. They are more likely to do what has been suggested, even if they don't realize it. And less likely to do the opposite. Jaune had said 'how to continue the conversation,' which made it less likely for her to dwell on how the conversation had gone up to that point.

Do not contemplate the past, always look towards the future. Do not doubt, do not falter, do not question. A slave mentality.

Conversation was just as much of a battle as everything else in life. It was just that most people didn't even know they were fighting in the first place.

Jaune pulled his hood back up as he exited the cabin. No need to show the sailors how young he really was. They thought he was in his twenties, if a bit short, and that was perfectly fine. His presence seemed to reassure the men greatly as he walked through them, arriving by the captain's side.

"We lost five." Ercanbald told him before he could ask. Jaune clasped the man's shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. "My first mate amongst them."

"A good man deeply regrets his failures, a great man, turns them into lessons." Was all Jaune could offer to that. He wasn't particularly attached to any of the sailors, but he could feel how affected the captain was by their deaths. The man's eyes were tearing up.

It was all quite sudden, Jaune thought to himself. Not even knowing that something was happening and then dying due to the power-hungry machinations of another.

"Thanks," the captain choked out. This was quickly approaching territory that Jaune wanted nothing to do with.

So he changed the topic. "Is the ship sailable with the men we have now?"

He received a nod. "Yes, but barely."

Jaune grimaced. That was something that he had rather been hoping to avoid. "I can offer the simple assistance of two hands on board if it becomes necessary." He wanted off the sea as soon as possible. If he had to help the crew a bit for them to not be slowed down, then so be it.

It would of course be quite drab if he was called when not truly needed… Jaune departed towards the port side with some last words. "Do not attempt to misuse the privilege."

Maybe the captain had picked up on his ability to sense things out of sight, because he nodded, despite there being no chance at Jaune seeing it.

-/-

Jaune smiled at his handheld mirror. Had it really been this easy the entire time? The skill of turning the descriptors above his head on and off was something he'd mastered a year ago, but he'd never wondered if there was anything more to it.

Until Blake had come along, somehow not showing her last name.

The knowledge that the descriptors were, to a point... malleable, had shattered his understanding of the entire bloody thing. Maybe it was an assassin skill! Moving onto a target with the name Mary Jane revealed, garnering no suspicion because the most famous assassin in town was called Jane Mary.

But no...

He had simply needed to think it and the Arc had disappeared from Jaune Arc. Was it really that simple? Nobody had bothered trying, therefore nobody knew it was possible? Jaune could see why this information had never been written down. It was only useful as long as others didn't know about it.

Blake showing only her first name would make people assume she was some kind of orphan, or from a family that refused to use their last name to ever refer to their daughter. The orphan and no-last-name ideas had only come to him after he'd already made up his mind about the descriptors being malleable.

It was obviously a well kept secret if even the Arc family, which had many encounters with assassins, didn't know about it. It better remain a secret.

After all, this was potentially his salvation. His freedom.

Jaune looked into the mirror and grinned. If you could leave out your last name, wouldn't it make sense that you could leave out your class as well?

Jaune Arc

Lightbreaker

Classes and titles didn't have anything that could help discern between the two of them. And being ogled for a rare class (first of its kind actually!) was much better than being hunted for being a dimensional mage.

Teleport was simply his passive, the class "Lightbreaker" seemed to be a mix of offensive magic like arcane bolt/rend, and skills capable of looking through illusions, like dimensional comprehension.

Though he would never reveal its true name. "Gaze of the Beholder" seemed quite catchy for something that could simply glance through illusions.

Jaune was ashamed of his rare, but rather useless class, and therefore hid it. The entire thing centred around being a counter to illusionists, which wasn't overly useful, since illusionists were a rare class as well. The reason why his skills were so unfitting for an illusion breaker was the fact that he'd taken the divergent skills offered every time.

After all, shatter illusion was only good against a certain group of people. Arcane bolt, however, did damage to everything, with a small chance of disrupting light-based illusions.

Jaune deliberately stopped thinking about how he could display Lightbreaker as a class. He was getting ahead of himself. While happy he had chanced upon something so utterly versatile, especially for someone in his position, he shouldn't rush in creating the story of how his supposed class worked. Hell, he could maybe gain another title and use that.

Warrior of the Seas sounded like something you could get if you fought enough naval battles… It was better to start his planning when he had come down from his happiness high. So that's what he did.

Stopped thinking about it. Helped the sailors. Starting the ship up always took more effort than keeping it sailing, and with his amateurish help they had probably set off five minutes earlier.

Jaune stretched out his senses to their maximum, expecting an ambush or something as they sailed out of Kuo Kuana's dock. The town hadn't really made a good impression on him so he was a bit more paranoid than usual. He relaxed when they sailed out of sight of it, and walked back towards his cabin, intentionally scuffing his feet against the wood beneath him and walking heavily so as to not startle the assassin in his room.

It was his room; he refused to knock. If she wasn't listening intently enough and he came upon her in an embarrassing situation then it was her own fault.

He found her sleeping, in the same position he'd left her. Back to the wall, knees drawn to the body with the head resting on them, hands resting on her daggers. Well, she was pretending to sleep, anyways. Probably just didn't feel like interacting with him.

Now that Jaune looked at her, face clear of all the negative emotions marring it before, he noted she was quite the beauty. The probable baggage kind of ruined any attraction he might have felt though. From his interactions with her, he was able to discern that she had been redeemed, or was seeking redemption. Redeemed for what he did not know, but she was too much of an assassin to have been raised as anything but. ...And maybe, being a mage, his prejudices against the class were showing.

But if even an assassin felt that a crime needed redeeming, then it must have been a hefty one indeed. Was that why she'd warned him about his would be robbers? An attempt at doing good to mask the evil of her past. She has most likely turned over a new leaf only recently. She was too _emotional_ about the subject for it to be an old wound. In general, too emotional for an assassin. Whatever had made her attempt a change must have happened recently.

And the outfall was big enough that she was fleeing to another continent, to attend a hero school of all things. After all, what other destination would a sixteen, seventeen-year-old assassin seeking redemption going to the city of Vale have? Missions you could receive from Beacon were all centred around helping or saving people, after all.

Redemption, absolution. It was a pursuit of freedom. Freedom from one's own conscience.

Jaune tilted his head as he observed her still form.

 _What have you done, Blake?_

-/-

The anguish of the fallen absolves our eyes

'Til beauty shines in all that we can see.

Murder is our scourge; yet it has made us wise,

And fighting for our freedom, we are free.

* * *

 **The Poem was not created by me. It is a slightly altered and shorter version of "Absolution" by Siegfried Sassoon.**

 **I released this chapter today since it got edited a few hours ago, and I didn't want to wait until next week to update the story.**

 **Warning though, I haven't even started on the next chapter yet. It might take a while for me to write it, officialy declaring this story on hiatus again. If anyone still remembers, the story also went on hiatus for two months approx. six months ago.**

 **Been writing more original fiction than fanfiction these days, (Find my original fiction on RoyalRoad; same username.) And the fanfiction I've been writing hasn't been of the RWBY variety. I wrote two chapters of "Living with Loops", a Gilderoy Lockhart time-loop story. And I've recently started writing another gaymer Self-insert in the Harry Potter fandom.**


	29. Chapter 29

I'm going to be rewriting this into a original story. I made it so AU that I only need to change the names of the characters and the Grimm anyway. Maybe it will get as popular as 'fifty shades of grey' afterwards lol, that was recycled twilight fanfiction. (Going to rewrite more than just the names of the characters and the monsters of course, I now have two more years of writing experience under my belt so I'm sure I can make it way better.)

Doing this mostly because its almost an original anyway, and I lost the motivation to write this thing since I felt very constrained by the few RWBY concepts I actually kept.

The fact that this was the path to take was revealed to me in a dream.

I'll update an authors note here when it's up.


End file.
